The Haunted Inn
by Cavebear Stroud
Summary: Six travellers arrive at Old Glory Inn, where they encounter supernatural danger, adventure, and friendship. Featuring Ryze, Annie, Ashe, Taric, Draven, and Jinx.
1. 1: Foreword & Prologue

THE HAUNTED INN is a piece of League of Legends Fan Fiction written by Cavebear, in May-June 2014. League of Legends is the property of Riot Games.

**THE HAUNTED INN**

Foreword

This story started as an exercise, but ended up as a novella. Three League of Legends friends each suggested two champions, one male and one female, to use as characters. My task was to create a working story around them and their interactions. The couples and their intended genres are as follows:

1) Ryze & Annie, mystery/horror

2) Ashe & Taric, light romance

3) Draven & Jinx, comedy

The story is set perhaps 3-5 years before the characters join the League.

For reading convenience, the files are blocked into groups of four chapters each, with an average word count per file of 2500-3000 words.

This novella is intended for League of Legends players of all ages. There is no hard profanity or explicit sexual content. There is some violence. Please enjoy.

[0] South Acorn, Middle of Nowhere—Prologue

Sometimes the most exceptional events transpire at the most mundane of places. Sometimes even the most unusual of characters get drawn into the same types of clichéd melodrama as the common man.

It was a chilly, grey, and windy day, the kind that rarely blows any good. In that backward armpit border march of Demacia called Gorfia, with the weather smelling very much like rain, travellers hastened to find shelter, lest they receive a cold soaking. In the case of the crossroad village of South Acorn, the most hospitable place for a weary traveller to find rest was the aging and rustic but still somewhat decadent Old Glory Inn.

Old Glory had once been a hunting lodge for a long-dead margrave by the name of William, known as William the Good, and its spacious rooms and halls were designed to accommodate a fair-sized war party. The main hall and the suite formerly for the use of the margrave were traditionally left empty, on account of the lack of custom from the merchants and travellers passing through the region, who usually opted to stay in Gorfia Town itself. Also, these rooms were haunted.

The servants' hall, however, was a popular watering hole frequented by the numerous local hunters and the occasional Demacian Ranger, and boasted a rough-and-ready clientèle. Arm-wrestling, knife-throwing, and tall-tale-telling were the three most popular pastimes of the regulars, if one does not include time-wasting as a legitimate way to pass the time.

One unusual feature of Old Glory was the large iron cage that hung from a thick branch of an ancient oak within bowshot of the inn's front gate. The travellers hurrying toward the inn paid no attention to the well-dressed old skeleton in the cage. They would after all have the rest of the afternoon to listen to tedious accounts of the local history, once inside and sheltered from the impending storm.


	2. 2: Chapters 1, 2, 3 & 4

THE HAUNTED INN League of Legends Fan Fiction By Cavebear, 2014

**THE HAUNTED INN**

[1] Old Glory Inn

The first two travellers to enter the gated compound were on foot. A wiry man dwarfed by a huge pack that he nevertheless carried easily, holding the hand of a girl child with intense green eyes, her hair concealed within a hood, who in turn trailed a dirty stuffed animal from her other hand. The man looked all around him, as if interested in all he saw.

"Hmmm, magic is afoot. This inn is haunted. Shall we press on and find a better place to spend the night, Aleksandra?" asked the man.

The girl shook her head emphatically. "No, no, Uncle Rasputin. I love haunted houses, 'cause I can play with the spirits."

The man smiled indulgently. "Well, I suppose there is no harm in that. Just remember, once we are inside, we cannot use our usual names, in case enemies of your parents are looking for us. I am Ross, and you are Annie."

"Ross, how boring. How about Ryze?" protested the girl.

"Very well. I am your uncle Ryze." He attempted to move to the door of the inn, but the girl pulled on his hand until he gave her his full attention.

"Are you really my uncle? As in the brother of my father?" asked the girl slyly.

"We do not share the same mother, but your father calls me brother, so you may call me uncle and it will not be a lie," responded the man patiently. "However, if you do hear me tell a falsehood, please say nothing. It can be like a game, for you to figure out when I am not telling the truth."

The girl smiled. She liked games. "All right, Uncle Ryze. Can we go in yet? I'm hungry."

They entered the inn. Their dress and appearance attracted little notice. The man's large pack caused some speculation, but despite his lack of size he looked somehow like a tough customer. The locals soon went back to their drinking.

[2] Servants Hall

The next two travellers to enter the inn, on the contrary, attracted every eye. It seemed clear that it was a knight-errant and his leman. Had they been surrounded by an entourage, as opposed to followed by a single aging body servant, it would have been easy to think them prince and princess. The knight's armour was encrusted by jewels and crystals, and his face had it been made of stone would have been a sculpted masterwork of classic male beauty. The lady was cloaked and hooded, but no man present was easily going to forget the ice blue eyes in a face of pale unblemished perfection.

All conversation stopped, the local men waiting breathlessly to see if the lady would remove her cloak to reveal a body of perfection to match the face. She did not, but the men remained convinced that what they didn't see would have rivalled any goddess walking the earth to mix with mortals.

The man spoke, in a pleasant and friendly baritone surprisingly devoid of arrogance, "Greetings all. Would someone please do me the honour of introducing the innkeeper?"

The steward jumped to his feet, almost knocking over the table where he had been sitting drinking with his friends. Not sure whether he should bow or salute, he made the ludicrous choice of saluting while bowing. He straightened and said, "Milord, the innkeeper Gareth is indisposed, but here is his lovely wife Bonnie, who will be happy to fulfil your every wish."

Lovely was a diplomatic way of describing the good wife, whose superstructure was so bountiful she could scarcely have fit into the knight's armour, and whose thighs were so impressive one of her legs was bigger around than the lady's hips. As with ponderous dignity made her way across the servant's hall, she ran her fingers through her strawberry blonde hair—the most feminine of her parts—and giggled nervously.

"I am Bonnie, and may I have the honour of knowing your names?" She curtseyed without bending.

The knight replied politely, "My name is Taric, and I am known as the Gem Knight. The lady's name is Belle."

"Welcome, Sir Taric and Lady Belle," said the innkeeper's wife, who then asked obsequiously and with a barely noticeable trace of lechery, "Would my Lord and Lady like our finest room?"

This question seemed to take the knight by surprise. "No, Lady Belle will require a separate room."

There was a pause and several of the locals hypothesised quietly that the knight must be a gay blade.

"We are not wed," clarified the knight, which changed the opinions of the local men not at all.

"Very well, will you require our finest two rooms—adjacent of course," asked Bonnie knowingly, as if to imply that chivalry died as soon as the candles were blown out.

"I am but a humble knight-errant, content with modest comfort," stated the knight, "but the lady's pleasure shall be my own." And he turned to his companion, waiting for her to state her will.

"If modest comfort is enough for my knight, then it is enough for me," stated the cool, confident voice of the lady. The local men found it sultry as well, perhaps because of the mystery of the cloak.

If the innkeeper's wife was disappointed that a man of obvious wealth should decline to purchase luxury, she didn't show it.

"Iain will show you to your rooms." She snapped her fingers and two hulking hands appeared to help the steward carry the luggage of the travellers.

Before anyone had time to leave the hall, voices from outside were raised in anger.

[3] Servants Hall

"Get out of my way, boy, and be quick about it."

"Not likely, Big Eyebrows. I got here first."

"Mouthy kid. I should break your scrawny little neck."

"Good luck, Granpa."

"You obnoxious brat. Give me one reason I shouldn't give you a good spanking right now."

"You're blind, so you'd miss me."

"Blind, how d'you figure that, boy?"

"I'm a girl, durr!"

There was a pause in the dialogue.

"Fine, then…ladies first."

"Thanks, Moustache Man."

A strange-looking boyish figure with blue hair walked through the doors, weighed down by a large travel sack. Entering immediately on her heels was an extremely muscular man who made the Gem Knight look soft and out of shape.

Suddenly the blue-haired youth tumbled forward head over heels as the man behind her cuffed her soundly on the back of the head.

"Ouch. That hurt…not at all!" exclaimed the youth, breaking into manic laughter. "Hahaha. Nice one, old-timer."

"Don't mention it, youngster. To show there are no hard feelings, let me buy you a drink." He shouted into the hall, "Hey, somebody bring Girlieboy here a nice mug of milk."

Bonnie slowly approached and spoke uncertainly, "Welcome, honoured guests, to Old Glory. My name is Bonnie, and I am the innkeeper's wife. Might I respectfully ask for a touch of decorum, as we are in the presence of fine company." She gestured toward Taric and the blue-eyed lady at his side.

"Well la-di-dah," commented the musclebound man with the large highly canted eyebrows and the impressive dragon-whisker moustaches.

"Ooh, shiny," added the blue-haired youth, rising lightly to her feet, leaving her sack where it had fallen.

"Greetings, friends. My name is Taric and this is the Lady Belle. We are honoured to make your acquaintance." The knight displayed unflappable good manners and pointedly ignored the fact that the two newest arrivals were both clearly commoners by upbringing. "Might we have the pleasure of your names?"

The man smiled broadly and gestured grandly, as if he were used to being the centre of attention. "Certainly. My name is…ahh…that is to say…I am called…Incognito. That's right, Incognito. And this annoying kid is…"

"Girlieboy?" volunteered the blue-haired youth with a huge mocking smile.

"Right. Girlieboy, or GB for short."

A high-pitched child's voice broke in, "Is your name Incognito or are you travelling incognito, Mister?" This question caused heads to turn in surprise.

After a second of looking blank, the strongman replied, "Hah, hah, hah! Both, of course. And that's Mister Incognito to you, Red." Referring to the child's red hair.

"My name is Annie. And that's Miss Annie to you, Mister Incognito."

Mister Incognito stroked his moustaches and commented, "What a strange child you are, Miss Annie."

The man standing behind her put his hand on her shoulder and she said no more.

The innkeeper's wife inquired as to whether the new arrivals would be requiring a room.

Girlieboy immediately replied, "I want your best room."

Incognito protested, "No, I want your best room."

"Ladies first, you said before."

"You're no lady."

"Well, I said it first. Nah!"

"Grrr!"

Bonnie interrupted with, "If it please you two, I have two best rooms, and they are side by side."

Girlieboy and Incognito spoke simultaneously: "Which of your best rooms is better?"

Girlieboy immediately turned to Incognito and announced, "Jinx."

"What?"

"Jinx."

"Whatever. Well, GB, you little Jinx, how can a kid like you who can't even afford a decent set of clothing possibly pay for the best room?"

"Let me explain it to you: It's a novel concept called 'money'. You probably spent all of yours on large pieces of metal," retorted Jinx.

"Now let me explain it to you: Those large pieces of metal are a novel concept called 'weapons'. You use them on criminals, and on little pests." Incognito smiled a broad smile showing an unlikely set of perfect teeth.

"Hey, Smiley. Are you saying you're a cop? And are you calling me a criminal, or do you think I'm a pest?"

"You are a pest," nodded Incognito.

"Am not, and I can prove it," announced Jinx.

"Go right ahead, I dare you," countered Incognito sceptically.

"We both want the best room. Fine, we'll share the best room, and I will pay my half."

"I don't do girls who look like boys."

"Naturally. You do boys who look like girls."

Incognito started to turn purple. "Grrr!"

"No? How about boys who look like boys?" suggested Jinx, grinning like a hyena.

"Rrraahh!" Incognito lunged for the youth but she was already dodging away.

"Hey, a tiger! Calm down, I was kidding. Nice kitty, nice kitty." Jinx leaped onto a table, then onto another, and finally vaulted behind the knight. "Help me, kind Sir?" she asked, but before Taric could do anything, she continued, "Just kidding. I don't need your help."

Incognito strode menacingly across the floor, but before he could lay his hands on Jinx, a piercing whistle shattered the air.

[4] Servants Hall

A frail old man in a white robe stood on the stairway, leaning on a staff, a silver whistle in his mouth, trembling with rage and glaring and everybody in the hall.

"Silence, you fools! Can't you see you will wake the angry spirits that haunt this place," hissed the man.

"Come on, old man. Your whistle made more noise than all of us together," protested Incognito.

"No. The spirits cannot hear my magic whistle, but they can hear your anger," asserted the old man in a tone of absolute conviction.

"I'm not afraid of ghosts. I doubt they even exist," asserted Incognito with equal conviction.

Annie started to jump up and down, and exclaimed with delight. "They are awake, they are awake!"

As Iain the Steward hurried to the old man's side to assist him down the stairs, many of the others turned to look at the strange child, and the man at her shoulder.

"Is there something that you would like to share with us?" asked Taric pleasantly as he addressed them.

The man spoke, attempting to defuse the tension in the air. "My niece is gifted with an active imagination."

"Uncle Ryze, it is no lie. I can tell that the spirits are awake."

"Of course, child. Of course you can," Was he agreeing with her because he also could sense the changing energy of the place, or merely in the hopes of keeping the girl quiet? Taric couldn't tell.

The old man had reached the foot of the stairway and spoke, "Welcome to the Old Glory, travellers. My name is Gareth and I am the innkeeper. Please allow my wife Bonnie and my steward Iain to bestow you safely in your respective rooms. Let all who are not staying with us tonight depart. My guests, if you do not cause trouble, the spirits are unlikely to trouble us, so please try to avoid violence."

"Hahaha, avoid violence," snickered Jinx.

The blue-eyed lady stepped forward and promised solemnly, "We shall keep the peace of this place tonight, Innkeeper. Those who do not will answer to me."

"And to me," added Taric.

Somehow the lady's veiled threat was more disconcerting than that of the Gem Knight, and was effective in clearing out most of the locals. They hastily dropped their coin on their tables and hurried out the door, hoping to reach their homes in South Acorn before the storm soaked them.

"Dinner will be served in two hours," announced the innkeeper's wife.

"Is there a dress code?" inquired the knight.

"No armour or weapons, please."

"So be it."

The travellers were shown to their rooms.


	3. 3: Chapters 5, 6, 7 & 8

THE HAUNTED INN League of Legends Fan Fiction By Cavebear, 2014

**THE HAUNTED INN**

[5] Room Thirteen

In their room, Annie was looking unhappy, as was usual for her these days. After all, she had been separated from her parents completely. Even when living with them they didn't have enough time for her as they were busy and she was demanding, but now she had no contact whatsoever.

Ryze was talking to himself, but loudly enough that she could hear him.

"There is something strange about this place. A mystery, a power…this is more than just an old dead nobleman's hunting lodge turned into an inn. I would like to find out more." Ryze was a student of the arcane and was continuously looking for new magical phenomena to study.

"Can I play with the spirits?" asked Annie brightly.

"Certainly, but you must promise to be careful not to upset them. Playing with spirits is like playing with fire—you could get burned."

"I won't get burned. I never play with matches," replied the girl.

"Good, because it would make me sad if something bad happened to you and I had to tell your father Grigori Aleksandrovich."

There was a pause. "Uncle Ryze, when will I be able to see Daddy and Mommy again?"

"Annie, your parents are in danger, and they will be in more danger if you are with them. Bad men might hurt you to hurt them. According you your father, the worst of the danger should be over within two months. We will meet your parents after that."

Two months was a very long time for a child, but Annie was not a normal child.

"Can you show me some more magic tricks, Uncle Ryze?" Annie had a one-track mind when it came to studying: magic was all that interested her. Fortunately that was also what interested her uncle.

The strange and sinister mystery of the Old Glory was temporarily forgotten.

"All right." Ryze pulled one of his many magical curios from his pack. Soon the two were sitting cross-legged on the floor watching magical sparkles spinning around between them. Annie was smiling at last.

[6] Room One

"Hey, Mr. Incognito. How come your luggage has been delivered and mine hasn't" asked the blue-haired youth, now self-identifying as Jinx.

"No idea." Incognito replied in a distracted tone of voice. He had discovered to his delight that the best best room in which the two travellers now found themselves had a full-length mirror, and he was standing in front of it examining his reflection.

"You didn't pay the hired hands to misplace my stuff, did you?"

"Nope."

"Damn. Guess I'll have to go look for it."

"Take your time." He didn't turn around as the door slammed shut. Now that he was alone he had no need to maintain his masquerade. He was Draven, an executioner, and in his own mind, THE executioner of Noxus.

It was really most unfortunate that a condemned prisoner, name of Anzi Decadexos, had escaped before his execution. It would be bad for Draven's reputation were that fact to become public knowledge. Fortunately if the Noxian executioner could catch him soon nobody would be the wiser. It was annoying that the prisoner was fleeing to Demacia, as that required him to conceal his identity, to avoid trouble at the hands of the Demacian Rangers who kept the border marches safe from Noxians. Not that the muscular man was afraid of rangers, but encountering them might lead to unwanted publicity, and interfere with his ability to execute the escaped prisoner.

Publicity. Normally the executioner thrived on it.

"Draven. Draaaven. Draaaaaven." The man chanted softly, remembering his fans. Gradually a big smile spread over his face. Eventually he drew a large, sharp knife and headed for the bathroom. "Time for a shave. Have to look my best for my biggest fan."

He was talking about himself, to himself.

[7] Room Six

Taric the Gem Knight stood patiently just inside her door. It was clear that he was expecting either to be dismissed or to be invited to stay.

Ashe, travelling under the name Belle, had encountered Taric on the trail days earlier, and upon discovering that she was travelling with only a single aging servant, an old shield-maiden called Berit, he had immediately offered his services as an escort. She had been initially sceptical of his offer of help, especially since he claimed that he needed no compensation, but his behaviour had been correct at every step. The well-travelled knight had been a constant companion, providing protection, a listening ear, and free education in the form of his numerous entertaining travelogues.

She was travelling to Demacia on a clandestine diplomatic mission—thus the false identity of 'Belle'—and she expected that she might have to make several such journeys in order to better serve the greater good of the Freljord. It would be nice to have a good, reliable companion, strong in a fight, who nevertheless did not live only for battle. Berserkers were so tiresome. Taric was cultured.

Unfortunately his presence was a constant reminder that as the leader of her people, she would be expected to marry for the state: almost certainly a local chieftain or perhaps a foreign prince. Pleasant company was not going to be a requirement, nor was being attractive. Being a knight-errant seemingly from nowhere, not connected to some powerful country, family or clan meant it was out of the question that Ashe could marry Taric.

So falling for him—which might happen if she continued to share his company—would only break her heart in the end.

"Thank you very much, Sir Taric. Berit will help me unpack and change for supper. I will see you downstairs in two hours," she said.

"Milady, I do not trust our fellow guests to keep the peace. Some of them seem predisposed to violence. Should you require my assistance I will be next door."

"Thank you, I will call if I encounter danger I cannot handle myself." Ashe was used to handling danger herself, and it didn't hurt to remind the knight of this. But she extended her gloved hand for him to kiss. She couldn't fool herself: independent as she was, she still enjoyed attention.

He kissed her hand and left.

Her servant Berit unpacked her evening dinner dress and began to help her out of her travelling clothes. They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Please wait, the lady will be with you presently," announced the servant to the door, without opening it.

She quickly laced Ashe into her dress. Without bothering to examine herself in the mirror—she knew that she looked very fine in her evening wear—Ashe said, "You may enter now, Sir Taric. The door is not barred."

The door swung open, revealing someone about as different from Taric as could be imagined. It was the brash, abrasive, uncultured, poorly-dressed blue-haired tomboy Jinx.

"Hi. I'm not Sir Taric." She stared for a few seconds in surprise. She had seen this woman in the hall, but wearing a hood and a cloak, all she had seen was the face. Facing her was an elegant platinum blonde in a swank indigo dinner dress who fairly radiated class. Always one to speak her mind, Jinx found her tongue and complimented Ashe cheerfully. "Looking good, Lady."

Ashe smiled. While travelling one encountered the most remarkable people. "Thank you. Please come in, and close the door."

Jinx did so. Ashe continued, "May I offer you some wine? The innkeeper's wife has kindly decanted a bottle."

Jinx accepted. She didn't normally drink wine, but free stuff was free stuff. "Sure, why not? Is it any good?" she asked, not knowing a thing about wine-tasting.

"I suppose we will find out." Berit poured three glasses, took one, sniffed it, then tossed the contents down her throat. After a few seconds, she nodded and handed Jinx and Ashe their glasses.

"Guess that's how it is done, eh…Down the hatch, just like that?" Jinx raised her glass and prepared to emulate Berit.

Ashe touched her arm gently and shook her head. "No, my dear. We may take our time, but she drinks first in case the wine is poisoned. "

Jinx laughed. "Sounds like a fun job." Then it occurred to her. "Wait, you have a poison-tester? You must be someone really special."

"Yes, you could say that I am a Very Important Person. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal my true identity to you. Like your friend Mr. Incognito, I am travelling incognito. I assure you that my intentions are pure, however. I am not running from the law."

"Are you running from an arranged marriage, or eloping with the pretty-boy knight?" asked Jinx, to whom the concept of tact was unknown.

Ashe was taken aback. Even a commoner ought to know better than to ask such a personal question. Who had educated this wild child?

"I am not betrothed, I am not married, I am not running away, and I am not eloping," Ashe replied defensively. "And I am not…" She stopped herself from saying that she was not sleeping with Sir Taric. "…not impressed with your manners, young lady."

Ashe realised ruefully that a master diplomat should never give away more information than necessary. She clearly had much to learn about statecraft and diplomacy.

"By the way, what brings you to my door?" she asked the girl.

"I think somebody delivered my luggage to the wrong room."

"And you want to change your clothes before dinner, no doubt."

"Not really. I just wanted to make sure that my friend is OK."

"You carry a friend around in that sack of yours?" Ashe asked dubiously. "Is it a pet?"

"My friend is a gun. I call him Günther," said Jinx proudly.

"A gun," repeated the older woman. "Called Günther."

"A hextech revolver, to be precise. Latest model, very sexy."

The things that came out of this girl's mouth! "Very sexy," nodded Ashe, at a loss for what to say.

"Worth a small fortune. He saved my life," continued Jinx, in a dreamy voice. "I love Günther."

_Is she talking about a man now?_ wondered Ashe with some confusion. _Did she name the gun after a man who saved her life?_

"Do you have a special weapon in your life?" asked Jinx.

"As a matter of fact, I do," stammered Ashe, who was quite lost. She looked at the wine glass, wondering if the wine had gone to her head…until she realised she had yet to taste it. She closed her eyes and drained half the glass.

When she opened them again, the strange blue-haired girl was still there.

"Well?" asked Jinx impatiently.

"It is ice-based, and magical."

"The wine?"

"No, the weapon." There was a knock on the door, but the women didn't notice.

"Cool! I'll show you mine if you show me yours," shouted Jinx enthusiastically.

At that moment Taric walked in, carrying Jinx' sack. "What is going on here?" he demanded.

Ashe blushed pink. "We are talking about weapons," she protested, knowing that sounded unlikely.

"Of course," agreed Taric pleasantly. "Would you like to see mine? It's really quite something."

There was a silent pause, and Ashe blushed a deeper shade of scarlet, but before anyone could speak, a voice rang out in the corridor.

"Hop, skip, jump!" exclaimed Annie, as she ran by. She stopped to stick her head in the doorway. "Would you like to see mine? It's really quite something." She copycatted, waving her stuffed animal at them. "Aren't you, Tibbers?" Then she ran off down the corridor, her voice trailing away, "Do you want to play with the spirits? You do? Yay, Tibbers!" Soon she had vanished.

"That girl is strange," commented Jinx, oblivious to the fact that the others considered her to be at least as strange. Then she noticed what Taric was carrying. "Hey, that's mine!"

Taric handed her the large heavy sack carefully, but she manhandled its weight easily.

"The staff delivered it to my room," he explained simply. "Now, don't go away, young lady. I'll be right back with my weapon. She's a real beauty." He walked out the door.

While Jinx fumbled in her sack looking for Günther, Ashe recovered her poise.

_I guess it won't hurt to show them my frostbow. Taric has already seen it, and I told Jinx about it, so the damage, if any, has already been done_, thought Ashe. Then unbidden, another idea popped into her head: _Jinx could be quite beautiful with the right clothing, posture, and training. Maybe I should try to help her. It is obvious she hasn't been raised by a mother._

Ashe felt a little guilty, as her own mother had taken care to groom her well. This kid probably had had a hard knock life. Perhaps the girl was travelling in the same direction and would share the trail with them. _The girl will pick up some manners from Taric, and learn a little about behaving more like a woman from_ _me_, thought Ashe.

It never occurred to her that Jinx was perfectly happy with herself the way she was, and had no interest in developing social skills. In retrospect, Ashe would realise that the talk about weapons had been proof positive that Jinx was destined to be a tomboy for life.

[8] Servants Hall

Thunder boomed outside, and the sound of rain hammering down provided a type of background music that isolated the guests and foreshadowed dire events to come. In the servants hall, the guests had assembled. There were twelve, seated at two tables of six. At one table sat a party of big game hunters with their Ranger guide. Their talk was of the weather, and of large beasts and their habits, and their plans for tracking down and killing said beasts.

At the other table, as unlikely a mixed group as had ever been seen at the Old Glory. Ashe, known as the Lady Belle to the others, sat at the head of the table, resplendent in her indigo dress, with her blonde hair falling down her back in a single braid, which according to the local custom indicated that she was single. The men at the other table stared at her as much as they dared, but she paid them no attention. Sir Taric, dressed in a plum dinner jacket with velvet lapels, a sky blue shirt, and a black silk neckcloth, was seated at her right hand. At her left hand was Draven, calling himself Incognito, dressed in a fur-trimmed leather vest and with a large silver deaths-head pendent hanging from a chain around his neck. Beside him sat the girl who was now calling herself Jinx, dressed in the same tattered hodgepodge as before. The mage Rasputin, nicknamed Uncle Ryze, sat beside the knight, wearing a white scholar's robe, and Annie was at the foot of the table, dressed in a wool sweater of forest green and a green patterned kilt skirt, with her hair neatly done up in two coiled braids.

Some food had already been placed on the table, and Jinx and Annie, who like all teenagers and children were perpetually hungry, were impatiently waiting for the signal to dig in.

"Shall we say the blessings," suggested Taric. Draven and Jinx frowned, but Ryze and Annie waited politely for the knight to continue. Raising both of his hands palm forward, he intoned a plainsong in his melodious baritone. "Bless this food and bless the table, bless this house and bless the stable. Bless this night and bless our slumber, and our tomorrows without number." He pressed his palms together and bowed his head.

Ryze then traced a circle in the air with his index finger and spoke as if invoking a spell. After the first words, Annie's voice joined with his and they spoke in unison. "Goddess of Wisdom and Magic, Bright-eyed Maid, we thank you for keeping your servants safe. As we reflect upon what we have learned today, may our minds be emptied of confusion and filled with the courage to face tomorrow with a happy heart. May you watch over this place and may your power guide and protect us forever." The mage and the child then each quickly traced a circle on their own foreheads to seal the invocation.

"Let us be thankful for this food," said Jinx, "and let's hope that more is on its way."

Taric and Ryze raised their eyebrows but said nothing.

Draven chanted a Noxian military prayer for the dead. "Brothers, you who have fallen, we salute you. When we fight, we honour your memory, that you may one day welcome us into your company, and we shall fight together again." He pulled out a sharp knife and cut himself. "This blood I shed for you, boys."

In a voice filled with nostalgia and longing, Ashe spoke, "South Wind, may your warm breath carry the sound of my footsteps home to the hearth where my loved ones await my return. North Wind, bring me the icy power of the tempest and grant me strength. Ancestors, keep the Freljord safe and guide my hand, that I may know justice and mercy. Amen."

The rites of hospitality completed, the travellers looked at each other with new understanding. Each of the adults found himself wondering, "Who are these other people? Whence do they come?"

The moment was dispelled when Draven reached out with his large knife and stabbed himself a dinner roll.

"No weapons at the table," reminded Taric.

Draven grunted. "Not a weapon. This is a utensil."

"Of course," commented Ryze, and the dinner was underway.

The food was satisfactory and the travellers were in a good mood. Draven and Taric quickly finished off the wine and called for more. A serving maid hastened to the wine cellar, but did not return. Instead, a bloodcurdling scream stopped the dinner conversation dead.


	4. 4: Chapters 9, 10, 11 & 12

THE HAUNTED INN League of Legends Fan Fiction By Cavebear, 2014

**THE HAUNTED INN**

[9] Servants Hall

Ryze stated, "I have a bad feeling about this. Something is very wrong."

Taric looked across the table at Draven. "Incognito, I think that girl needs our help. Shall we go?"

Draven, his mouth full of bread, replied, "Nah. She probably just saw a rat. I'll stay here."

"Well, I will go investigate," said the Gem Knight. "May I borrow your utensil for a minute?"

"Sure." The knife thunked into the table beside Taric, who pulled it out as he leaped to his feet and sped off after Ryze.

Annie and Jinx looked at each other knowingly, then both of them stood up to go but were stopped by Ashe's voice.

"You girls be careful," she commanded sternly.

"Yes, Ma'am," said Annie, and she skipped off in pursuit of the men.

"Hahaha, be careful," snickered Jinx, and she was gone too, leaving Ashe alone at the table with Draven.

"What brings you to Demacia, Mr. Incognito?" asked Ashe politely.

"Business. But all work and no play makes Incognito a dull boy, so I don't mind having a bit of fun along the way," replied Draven, assuming a greater interest than had been shown. "If you are bored with your Sir Knight, I'm sure that we can come to a suitable arrangement, Lady Belle."

"I don't think you are my type," replied Ashe coolly. "How did you come to be travelling with that blue-haired girl, by the way?"

"Girlieboy? I am not travelling with her, we ran into each other just outside the inn. As far as I am concerned, you can have her. I don't think she's my type," smiled Draven at his mimicry. "So, are all the women of the Freljord as beautiful as you?"

"What do you know of the Freljord?" Ashe attempted to deflect the conversation from her beauty.

"I hear all the men there use large axes. I'm a large axe man myself, so if you like that sort of thing, I am definitely for you," said Draven, and he winked at her.

Ashe was dubious. "I am afraid that I am not into large men wielding large axes. But where are you from, Mr. Incognito? Not the Freljord, certainly."

Draven took her hand gently and leaned toward her. "I will tell you, but it will have to be our little secret. Would you like some more wine before I share my secret with you?"

"There is no more wine, remember? You and Sir Taric drank it all." Ashe removed her hand carefully from Draven's huge fist.

"Nooo problem," drawled Draven, as he stood up and moved to the other table, where he seized a half-full bottle of wine.

"Hey buddy, don't be a Noxian," said one of the hunters belligerently.

Draven's eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?"

"Of all the different species of vermin in the world, I hate rats, cockroaches, and Noxians the most," stated the hunter, obviously a Demacian. "So don't be a Noxian, and give us back our bottle."

"Fine." Followed by the sound of breaking glass as Draven, a patriotic Noxian, smashed the bottle over the Demacian hunter's head, knocking him senseless to the floor, and instantly starting a brawl. It was one versus five, but the muscular ex-gladiator seemed not the least bit worried.

_Incognito must be a Noxian_, thought Ashe. _And not a very bright one. Definitely not my type. _

She calmly rose to her feet and left the hall. There was no point in sitting around waiting for some flying food to ruin her dress.

[10] Wine Cellar

The woman was lying motionless on the floor of the wine cellar. Blood trickled out of her nostrils, ears and mouth. Ryze knelt beside her to check for signs of life. Very weak, and fading fast. If only Ryze were a magical healer, saving her would be simple, but he was a generalist, who had studied many different types and disciplines of magic but mastered none of them.

If an evil spirit was possessing her, an exorcism would be required—a long and difficult process. He decided to try a generic counterspell. Suddenly he felt a surge of terror coursing through him like a thunderbolt. Whatever was killing the woman was attacking him as well!

Taric entered the room, and knelt on the other side of the prone woman. He laid his hands on her forehead and chest, and immediately they started to glow.

"You are a healer?" exclaimed Ryze in surprise.

Taric nodded. "Are you a mage?" he asked. "If you are, try to fight the evil magic in this place, while I keep us all alive."

Ryze started to invoke an arcane shield. He could not counterattack because he could not identify the source of the attack.

The torches flickered and went out, leaving the room in near darkness. The only light came from the soft violet glow of Taric's hands and the silvery sparks of Ryze's shield.

"So strong…too strong" Ryze forced the words out between teeth clenched in effort and pain.

"Who is attacking us and why?" panted Taric. "And whence?"

Ryze shook his head: he had no idea. It didn't seem likely that Grigori's enemies could have tracked Annie here so quickly, but if they had, Annie was in terrible danger.

As if conjured by his worries, she appeared in the doorway, and almost immediately started squealing in pain. "Bad spirit! Chasing all my friends away," Annie complained.

Taric wondered what friends these would be. Were there many spirits in this place?

"Annie dear, come hold my hand. We must be together if we want to fight the bad spirit," said Ryze, trying to keep his voice normal, against the stabbing pain in his head and the pounding of his heart. He tasted blood on his lip and suspected that his nose had started bleeding.

Annie put her tiny hand in Ryze's, while he placed his other hand on Taric's shoulder. Taric kept both of his hands on the fallen serving girl. They were all linked by touch.

"I don't like this," said Annie, and there was a flicker in her eyes. Ryze felt the power building with surprise. "Take that!" shrieked Annie, and a bolt of fire streaked from her free hand to strike a large wine cask in the corner of the room, setting it on fire.

"By the Goddess!" exclaimed Ryze. "How did you learn to do that? I never taught you."

"Tibbers," stated Annie simply.

For a few seconds nobody spoke, as everybody used their magical power, their _mana, _to resist the evil and support each other. Then the burning cask fell to pieces, and in the dim light it could be seen that it had been empty. Behind where it had been was a black space.

"A secret passage," observed Taric.

Suddenly the pressure was gone. The attack was over. Taric, the knight who had revealed magical healing powers, slumped over the body he had been protecting, his ear to the servant's chest.

"Still alive," he whispered.

Ryze collapsed against him, holding Annie in his arms. "You were very brave," he whispered to her.

Had the fire scared off the attacker, or had the attacker exhausted his _mana_? Either way, the respite granted relief. What the respite did not do was answer the questions who, how and why.

[11] Servants Hall

"Noxian scum! Go home, you are not welcome here!" shouted the Demacian Ranger as he hurled a chair.

Draven ducked and grinned. All of his opponents were down but this one. The ranger was clearly a superior fighter, but that was how it was supposed to be. Just like in the arena, where your last opponent was always the toughest. In his mind he heard the roar of the crowd, encouraging him to victory. The fans were always on his side, of course.

Well, time to give them what they wanted. Instead of picking up a chair of his own, Draven picked up a bench and swung it like a maul. The Demacian dodged easily. He swung back. Another easy dodge. And a third time…The ranger dodged and sneered, thinking his foe had become predictable. A chair, kicked by the Noxian, hit him in the knee, slowing him and causing him to stumble. Then the bench crashed into his chest, hurled from a double overhead grip. He toppled backward, cursing. The last thing he heard before his opponent knocked him out with a boot to the side of the head was the mocking laughter.

"Victory!" Draven pumped his arms in the air as he screamed his triumph. He looked around, but the Freljord wench was nowhere to be seen. A shame, because watching him fight always put women in the mood, but he had other ways of getting them to lift their skirts. For example, he could use his legendary charm and wit.

Grinning hugely, he went in search of a triumph of a softer nature. Then he realised that he had no weapon, having lent his knife to the do-gooder of a knight. He might need one, if the hunters decided to come after him for revenge later. He took the stairs two at a time and was striding to Room One, when he saw the Freljord piece coming his way, a crystal staff in her hand.

"Hey, Belle. Wanna look at the best room in the inn?" If he had his way she would get a nice long look at the ceiling.

"Don't try to 'hey, Belle' me, you irresponsible overgrown boy," stated Ashe coldly. She was clearly out of sorts.

"Why, what's the matter, chickie?" Draven stroked his moustaches while Ashe fixed him with her ice blue eyes. His smile slowly faded as he saw that she was really quite angry with him.

"That's 'Lady' to you, and don't forget it. Leaders give orders, and soldiers follow them. I am a leader in peace and in war, and when I give my word I keep it."

"Fine, Milady. What orders do you have for this handsome soldier?" Draven touched his chest and spread his arms wide as he advanced toward the lady in the indigo dress.

"Don't get any closer to me or you will regret it," she warned, but Draven was used to women protesting and then falling into his arms and he paid her no heed.

Suddenly he was seeing stars and toppling over, unable to breathe. Ashe had kicked him swiftly and hard between the legs. While he lay groaning, he felt an icy touch on his cheek, as she put the tip of her crystal staff against his skin.

"I gave the old innkeeper my word that we would keep the peace tonight, and that anyone who didn't would answer to me. You're going to apologize to him, or I will publicly humiliate you in a way that will be worse than a dozen floggings. Do you understand me?"

Draven wondered if he could grab her ankles and throw her down. Once she was grappled, he ought to be able to overpower her easily. He moved his arm into position, but was interrupted.

"Don't even think of trying it, warrior. You are in no position to take on a Freljord Battle-maiden." The icy tip of her weapon poked unpleasantly into his ear. "One last warning: You will give up trying to get me into your bed. I am not for you, and would not be even were you of noble birth. Should you condescend to me even once more, I will freeze your manhood so severely you won't be able to feel it for a month."

Was she warrior or was she sorceress, or both perhaps? It didn't matter: As he stared into her merciless eyes, Draven knew that he had been beaten. For now.

"I understand. I will apologize to the innkeeper, and keep your peace this night."

"Good. Here comes the innkeeper now, and he looks the very model of an angry mage, so be convincing," advised Ashe as she stepped back.

Draven nodded as he got slowly to his feet.

[12] Outside

"Guess it's just the two of us, eh?" commented Jinx.

"Quality time alone at last," agreed Günther.

As soon as she had left the table, Jinx had run to her room immediately to get Günther. She then decided to save time by taking the servants stairs, thinking they would lead directly to the wine cellar, but they didn't. After wandering through several deserted rooms, she became impatient and decided to go through the next door she saw. The door led her directly outside. Which was why she was standing in the rain, talking to her gun.

"I don't mind a little rain, do you?" asked Jinx.

"Good thing I'm waterproof," agreed Günther.

"That's the spirit," said Jinx, as she kissed the hextech revolver. "Are you ready to explode and spit death at my enemies?"

"Just for you," agreed Günther.

"Hey, do you see that? What happened here?" Jinx caught sight of two servants lying on the ground. Bounding to their side, she examined them and discovered that both were dead. Recent kills, there was fresh blood on their faces, and one man had had his throat slashed. She whipped her head up but saw nobody. A scarecrow stood nearby, a grotesque parody of humanoid form.

"Hey scarecrow, you see who did this, eh buddy?" asked Jinx, who was quite used to talking to inanimate objects.

"Hoo hoo hoo!" replied the scarecrow in a chilling ominous voice, whereupon it started to walk away.

"Not very helpful, is it?" commented Jinx. "Hey, don't go away, I am not finished talking to you!"

The scarecrow started to bounce awkwardly back and forth on its wooden legs, moving away even faster.

Never one to miss an excuse to use her gun, Jinx took aim and fired. The direct hit knocked some splinters into the air, but the scarecrow didn't stop running.

"Aww aww aww!" it screamed. Jinx did not know if it was screaming in mockery or in pain, but on the chance it was mocking her, she fired again. This time she knocked the blade off of the scarecrow's scythe.

The scarecrow dodged into a cornfield and was gone.

She reached the place at which the scythe blade had fallen, and noticed that there was blood on it.

"You know, I think that scarecrow killed the two servants," said Jinx as she picked up the blade.

"Reasonable deduction," agreed Günther.

"Let's go back inside and ask the scholar man what he thinks. Plus, I don't want to miss dessert," added Jinx decisively. She kissed the gun before replacing it in its holster.

It took her several minutes to find her way back to the hall, where she found six unconscious men lying amid the wreckage of their meal. She was disappointed that dessert had not been served yet, so she helped herself to what had been left on Incognito's plate.

He wouldn't miss it, he was big enough already.


	5. 5: Chapters 13, 14, 15 & 16

THE HAUNTED INN League of Legends Fan Fiction By Cavebear, 2014

**THE HAUNTED INN**

[13] Servants Hall

Dessert was being served, to the delight of Annie and Jinx, but none of the adults in the hall seemed at all happy. Some of the guests were unhappy with each other. Gareth and the staff were unhappy because all of the guests were now armed to the teeth. Gareth was especially unhappy at Mr. Incognito, who had brought a huge sinister axe to the table with him, and so the old mage was giving him the evil eye.

"Relax, old man. This is just to keep the peace. The other table is less likely to start something stupid, because if they do…" he jerked his thumb across his throat, then started playing with his pumpkin pie. He noticed the ranger glaring at him. "You relax too. I'm not here to poach any of your precious big game. I'm just passing through. Tomorrow I'll be gone and hopefully I'll never have to experience Demacian hospitality ever again. Plus, have you seen the monster he is carrying?" Draven gestured at Taric's weapon, a gem-encrusted hammer that made Draven's axe look small.

The knight looked slightly offended. Placing his hand upon his heart, he spoke solemnly, "Upon my word, I pose no threat to the safety of this house, its inhabitants, or the honoured guests here present. My role is to protect the women and children under this roof tonight."

The serving maid whose life the knight had saved walked provocatively over, hips swaying, seated herself on his lap, and started stroking his cheek. "Thank you for saving my life, Sir Knight. Feel free to put your gentle healing hands on me again whenever you desire." The way she said the word 'desire' and the way she was looking at him left no doubt in anyone's mind that she would be knocking at his door once the lights were out. "My name is Alia," she said, "if it please you, Sir."

Draven interrupted, "Alia, how about some more wine, there's a good girl."

Alia slipped off Taric's lap and seductively sauntered to the bar, where a large supply had been recently brought up from the cellar, in anticipation of an evening of heavy drinking.

Ashe considered the whole 'rescued damsel in distress offers up her body to the knight that saved her' tradition to be both pointless and tasteless. Slightly miffed, she commented to Taric in a disapproving voice, "Next thing you know she'll be offering to polish your hammer."

"No need for that. I polish it myself every day," replied the knight. One of the hunters who had been listening from the other table suddenly snorted his wine through his nose, and collapsed coughing but still laughing on the table.

"Hey, does your hammer have a name," asked Jinx.

"Certainly. Her name is Adelaide," replied Taric, causing double-takes among the men, but Jinx just nodded.

"Can I have more pie," asked Annie, changing the subject.

"May I have more pie, please," corrected Ryze.

"Please," amended Annie.

"More for me, too," added Jinx.

"Alia, how about another two pies, fresh from the kitchen, there's a good girl," said Draven. "And do you by any chance have a sister as friendly and affectionate as yourself?" he added brazenly.

"No, but I have a cousin who charges by the hour, if you are interested," Alia tossed back over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen. "Her name is Amira."

"All riiight," drawled the ex-gladiator with a big smile on his face.

"She had better stay on your side of the bed," warned Jinx.

"Whatever," commented Draven with a sneer. "Anything to make you happy, so long as you shut up."

"Hahaha, shut up," snickered Jinx.

Suddenly Ryze, who had been brooding to himself, spoke up: "Does anyone have any ideas about what happened tonight? Now would be a good time to share."

"Why don't we ask the skeleton in the cage," suggested Annie.

"I think it was the scarecrow," said Jinx.

Gareth and Ryze looked sharply at Jinx. "What did you just say?" They demanded in unison.

"Jinx!" said Jinx. "The scarecrow from the cornfield outside, I'm pretty sure it killed the two servants, so maybe it also tried to kill Alia."

Draven scoffed. "More likely Alia was pretending to be frightened and overcome, so that she could get the knight to put his gentle healing hands on her," he said with a leer.

Ryze disagreed, "No, that is not how it happened. We were definitely under magical attack—a very powerful attack in fact. What did you sense, Annie?"

Annie thought for a moment. "The bad spirit does not live in the house, it came in from outside. Through the secret passage. And it scared off the good spirits and made the rest of them mad."

"This bad spirit, is it looking for something?" asked Ryze, thinking aloud.

"Or someone," suggested Ashe. "Or both: Revenge."

Annie had no answer. Everyone looked around uneasily. Gareth scratched his head in concentration, as though trying to recall something so far in the past even the memory of the memory had faded. Conversation lapsed until the pies arrived.

Gareth got up and hobbled over to Annie. He asked, "Can you speak with the dead?"

Annie replied, "The dead cannot speak—they're dead."

"Yes, of course. But can you speak with spirits—ghosts?"

"I only speak with ghosts who like me."

"Damn. What we need now is a necromancer," lamented Gareth.

Draven's head shot up. Anzi Decadexos was a necromancer. Could he be behind the strange events at the inn? If so, perhaps he was not far away—he might even be in the inn at this moment.

"Hey Innkeeper, have you seen a short black-eyed traveller with a hook nose, within the last day or two?" shouted Draven. "He could be the necromancer you seek."

The innkeeper thought carefully. "No, I have seen no black-eyed traveller with a hook nose recently, although that description would hardly be unusual in these parts."

The innkeeper's wife, behind the bar, had overheard Draven and said, "A man fitting that description had lunch here today. He mentioned the possibility of needing a room tonight, depending on the weather. He stepped out to look at the skies and never returned, so I assume that he is long departed."

"Maybe not," whispered Ryze. Turning to Draven, he fixed him with a stare and asked, "Would this necromancer have any enemies in this region? Enemies worth ambushing here at the inn? You, perhaps?"

"Me? Perhaps, perhaps not. I suspect that he may have many enemies in this region, since he used to live here. He may have allies here as well," said Draven.

Ryze hissed, "Undead allies."

Gareth asked nervously, "Do you know this necromancer's name?"

Draven shrugged. Normally he would not share information, but given the circumstances it did not seem likely that the man he was tracking would have any friends in the room tonight. Just in case, though, he should be careful. He moved over to where the innkeeper was sitting beside Ryze and pulled their heads close.

"Anzi Decadexos," he whispered. "And I have tracked him here from Noxus, because I want to kill him."

Gareth went pale. "Anzi Decadexos! We thought him dead. This is terrible news you bring, Noxian."

"We need a plan," said Ryze. "Can you tell us the history of this necromancer, Anzi Decadexos?"

[14]

"The unhappy story begins fifty years ago, when my father was Steward of this place, and William, Margrave of Gorfia, known as William the Good, who built this place on the site of an old hermitage, was in his prime. A young wizard by the name of Anzi Decadexos became the Gorfian court wizard. In those days many a murky deed was performed in the name of the conflict between Demacia and Noxus, and Decadexos had been spymaster before his appointment to the court. Traditionally the post of court wizard was filled by an aging battlemage, but the Margrave decided that a young assassin-mage would be able to better protect him from the cloak-and-dagger scheming of the Noxians of the day…"

The innkeeper was interrupted by the Demacian hunter who had been knocked out by the bottle over the head. "The Noxians of today are no better. Filthy assassins devoid of decent morals…"

He was interrupted in turn by Draven, who defended himself by saying, "I am no assassin! I like to kill my enemies in broad daylight, in plain sight of both friend and foe."

"Why are you travelling incognito, if not to perform some dirty deed in the dark?" demanded another hunter.

"Ooh, alliteration," said Jinx.

Draven scowled at her, assuming that alliteration was a type of insult. He answered the hunter, "I am travelling incognito for entertainment. I am just a normal fun-loving man—with perfect powerful pectorals and magnificent moustaches."

"Fancy that," growled the Demacian Ranger, rubbing the side of his head, while several of his companions snorted sceptically.

Taric stood up and said in a powerful but pleasant voice, "Friends, please. It is considered rude to interrupt one's host. A host, I might add, who is forgiving enough to overlook your shameless brawling. A host who would be within his rights to evict you from the comforts of his inn to face the inclement weather and the perils of the night on your own, without help from the wise. Shall we all show him the respect due his age and station, and listen to his tale?"

The hunting party looked shamefaced and muttered apologies. Draven shrugged but said no more. Taric sat down and Ashe squeezed his arm approvingly. He gave her a faint smile before returning his attention to Gareth, who continued his history.

"There was a young lady, Yvianne who was the daughter of a baron and also the sweetest and most beautiful young woman in this part of the country. She was known as the 'Gentle Rose of Gorfia'. She was desired by Anzi Decadexos and William's Master of the Hunt, Bohort Bearkiller, among others, including myself, but she fell in love with William, and won his heart. The old Baron agreed to the match, and they were married. However happily ever after was not to be their destiny. The sinister Anzi Decadexos harboured a secret grudge, and came up with a plot to make it appear as though the new Marchioness was having a torrid affair with her husband's chamberlain, Chris the Clever. Margrave William killed his right hand man with the chamberlain's own weapon, and left him lying in a pool of blood. Later that night, the Margrave died of poison, and all the evidence pointed to lovely Yvianne. My father the Steward, in charge of the estate, sadly ordered her execution. Since she was suspected of witchcraft, she was to be burned. It broke my heart to think that someone so sweet was capable of dissembling a murderous heart behind such a pretty face."

The innkeeper paused, on the verge of tears, and swallowed. Regaining his composure, he continued.

"Little did we know at that time that the poor young lady was innocent as the dawn. After the fact, we learned that she had been approached by the vile Anzi Decadexos, who offered to save her life and spirit her away if she would be his woman, but the pure heart had turned him down. I hope she forgives me for ever doubting her virtue."

The innkeeper took his feet, and his voice became stronger, as the long-buried memories of the past returned to trouble him.

"The cruel tale is far from finished. The valiant Bohort Bearkiller returned from a hunt an hour before Yvianne's execution, and upon hearing the news, loudly proclaimed her innocent, and offered to stake his life on that fact. He had with him one of the hermit men of the region, a diviner named Terse, who had foreseen disaster and had raced with Bohort back to the lodge in the hopes of preventing it. The Master of the Hunt begged Terse to use his powers of clairvoyance to reveal the truth.

"Anzi Decadexos was beside himself, seeing that all of his plotting about to be revealed, and he used a magic charm to provoke an argument between my father and Bohort. They fought a duel of honour for the life of the Marchioness, and the Bearkiller killed my father on the field. Unwilling to let the innocent lady go free, Decadexos stabbed both her and the soothsayer Terse with a poisoned dagger and ran to the stables, intending to flee.

"The Bearkiller, berserk with rage at this treachery, pursued him and commanded that the stable doors be closed. Nobody saw the fight, but during the ensuing combat the stable was set on fire. Eventually, hearing no noise, we opened the gate to the stables and found both men dying on the ground, Bohort from poison and Anzi from a sword driven all the way through his body. We immediately transported them outside.

Bohort had only the time to say. "Upon my body, I have proved her innocence. Let all remember the treachery of assassin-mage Anzi Decadexos, and the purity of Yvianne, the Gentle Rose of Gorfia, whom I loved." Then he died in agony.

Decadexos, however, had the unnatural vitality of one who had studied black magic, and lying there in a growing pool of his own blood he boasted of what he had done, telling us the whole sad story. He laughed as he died, mocking us all for fools and cursing this place. We sent the Margrave and the Marchioness to be buried in the family crypt, and cremated the others with honour, except for Chris the Clever, as William's last wish had been that his chamberlain be locked in an iron cage and displayed for all eternity in front of the lodge. Decadexos' foul corpse was tied to a stake in the cornfield for the ravens to enjoy."

"Anzi Decadexos is dead then," said Ryze. "His ghost haunts this place."

Gareth continued, "Not necessarily. The next day, his body had disappeared and his manservant had fled. We assumed that the servant had taken the dead body in order to give it decent rites, but we may have been mistaken. Over the years I have heard that there are spells to counterfeit death, and others that can animate a body whose heart has stopped. I fear that Decadexos has used his necromancy to deceive us."

Draven nodded, "The man is very much alive. I have seen him, and he still eats food—doesn't he?"

The innkeeper's wife nodded.

"Still alive, obviously. It will not surprise you to learn that he has not reformed his ways: he has committed another atrocity in Noxus, and I intend to take revenge and end his foul existence. He may be able to regenerate fatal wounds, but let's see what happens when I sever his head from his body," Draven pounded his fist on the table for emphasis.

"And the scarecrow?" asked Annie.

"The scarecrow must be his undead servitor," said Ryze. "Why has he returned here?"

"They say that a criminal always eventually returns to the scene of his crime," said Ashe.

"Well, if it is this place and the people of long ago that he hates, he is unlikely to pursue us if we leave," suggested one of the hunters.

"Let's go then," said another.

The hunters rose as one to leave.

"I will stay," said the Ranger. "This is my territory, and the people here are under my protection."

Taric rose and spoke, "You are a brave man. What is your name, friend?"

"My name is Arif, and I have an ancient grudge to settle against Anzi Decadexos: Bohort Bearkiller was my great-uncle."

[15] Room Thirteen

Ryze sat crosslegged on the floor, deep in meditation.

Anzi Decadexos the necromancer, the assassin, the mage, returning after 50 years absence, immediately kills two people and tries to kill more. Why?

The situation didn't make sense. Nobody was claiming that Anzi Decadexos was mad, so his actions must have motives. Were he merely looking to take revenge on the locals, he would have done so long ago. He must have some other reason to visit this place.

He went outside to look at the weather, and didn't return inside to book a room. He would clearly have seen the approaching storm, so he would have known he was unlikely to travel further today, so he should have booked a room.

So perhaps he wasn't looking at the weather. He was looking for something else, perhaps?

What do mages look for? Magic lore, or magic items, of course.

Suppose that Decadexos, fifty years ago, had been mortally wounded and was keeping himself alive through magic. He would have been weak, so he had fled in the middle of the night without confronting his local enemies. Perhaps he had been forced to leave some magic item behind, and now he wanted it back?

No, if it were so important, he would have returned long ago to claim it. Unless…he hadn't needed it before. Why might he need it now? He was running from Incognito, a Noxian, who was in Gorfia looking to kill him. Decadexos been forced to flee Noxus, presumably…without all of his magic items? His gear from fifty years ago was not as powerful as what he had left behind in Noxus, but it was better than nothing?

That made sense.

Who would know the nature and whereabouts of any magic items from the past? Gareth might, but he was only a boy fifty years ago. What if an item had been hidden long ago? The skeleton in the cage! Probably that of the Chamberlain, Chris the Clever. Thinking that the man had been sleeping with his wife, the Margrave had killed him and had had him put on display as an example. The Chamberlain would have known everybody in William's court, he might well know about the magic items owned by members of the court.

Annie was right. They should have talked to the skeleton in the cage. They still could do, of course, but it would involve going outside in the dark, with Anzi Decadexos, a dangerous assassin-mage, lurking about somewhere, with his murderous undead scarecrow.

He would need to take Annie, and a couple of others for protection. Sir Taric would be the most useful, but he had sworn to protect the inn tonight. He might not want to leave the premises. Then again, if Ryze persuaded Belle, the Gem Knight might want to accompany her. Otherwise, Incognito and the Demacian Ranger Arif would be the best in a fight. Unfortunately, they despised each other. The blue-haired youth seemed impervious to fear, and she had a young pair of eyes, she might be a good lookout, but then again…did she have to be protected or could she fight for herself? Gareth was a mage, but he would be left behind if they had to flee, as he was incapable of running.

Ryze would ask the Lady Belle first. There was something magical about her. She could almost be one of the classical enchantresses of legend, with her stunning platinum blonde beauty. She looked quite young, but Sir Taric deferred to her without question…perhaps she was much older than she appeared? She was also clearly incognito. What kind of lesser noble owned a staff tipped with magical frost crystals? Sceptres were for royalty and archmagi. The lady was no fool, she wouldn't waste her disguise by bringing an item like that to the table, unless she really felt threatened.

Of course, there was also the possibility that the gems had been a gift from the Gem Knight. It was time to find out for certain.

Standing up, Ryze spoke, "Annie, please come with me. We need to talk to people. And you will have to talk to the skeleton in the cage."

Annie bounced off the bed with glee and followed the mage out the door. She didn't seem frightened at all.

[16] Rooms Six, Seven, and One

"The lady is resting. Who is it?" asked Berit upon hearing the knock.

Ashe was lying on the bed, but fully dressed to travel, with the exception of her boots which stood nearby, and her leather breastplate and archer's bracer, which were on a footstool next to the bed. On a low table nearby, covered in a towel, were her crystal sceptre, her frostbow, and her arrows. If the inn came under attack, she would help defend it.

Defending the weak and helpless was more important to her than maintaining her incognito. In that she was a good fit with Sir Taric, who had been much on her mind since he became her travelling companion several days ago. She wondered if he could be the son of royalty himself, wandering around as a knight-errant in order to see the world. If he were royalty, then a diplomatic marriage would at least in theory be a possibility.

"It is Ryze, a scholar, with a matter of some urgency," said the voice on the other side of the door.

Ashe was jolted out of her reverie. Sitting up, she motioned for Berit to let him in.

Ryze bowed deeply. "Milady, it is extremely important that we talk to the skeleton in the cage not far from the inn. I believe that the skeleton may be able to give us important information about Anzi Decadexos the necromancer. Would you like to accompany us on this mission?"

Last time the men—Taric and Ryze—had run off, leaving her to deal with the libido of the Noxian warrior. This time, at least she was being invited…and there was no point in lying on her bed doing nothing when she knew that she would have a hard time sleeping.

"Certainly," agreed Ashe. Berit helped her into her breastplate, bracer and boots. "Let's see if Sir Taric is interested in this night mission, shall we?"

Leaving the staff, she picked up the bow and the quiver and followed Ryze and Annie out the door.

Ryze knocked next door at Room Seven, where the Gem Knight was staying. From within came the muffled sound of a woman's laughter. He knocked again, harder.

The door opened to reveal a fully-clothed Taric. Behind him was a scantily-clad Alia.

"Good evening, friend. And you, Milady, please do come in," said Taric. "I was just entertaining Miss Alia with some stories of Bilgewater."

Ashe's face hardened, and she stepped in front of Ryze in order to speak to Taric directly. "I am going out on a night mission with Mr. Ryze. I want you to protect the inn while I am absent."

Taric looked dismayed. "Please allow me to accompany you," he protested.

"No, and that is my command," stated Ashe coldly. "Besides, Alia wouldn't want you to interrupt your story before the climax, I'm sure."

She spun around and stalked off down the corridor. Taric looked hurt. Ryze shook his head.

"Sorry to have disturbed you," he said, pulling the door closed.

He rushed to catch up with the angry blonde. "We should get another fighter, then. How about Mr. Incognito?" he asked.

"No, I don't want his company either," stated Ashe, "he is a boorish rake. I'd rather take his fearless blue-haired friend."

"Really?" Ryze was doubtful. It seemed to him that she had just rejected the two most formidable fighters available, through wounded feminine pride. "As you wish, Milady"

He knocked at the door of Room One.

"Come on in, Gorgeous!" came the cheerful drawl of Mr. Incognito.

Ashe scowled. Ryze opened the door. Draven frowned. Jinx raised an eyebrow.

"Young lady…" began Ryze, but he was interrupted.

"Call me Jinx."

"Jinx, would you like to act as lookout on a night mission outside the inn?" asked Ryze.

"Hey, what about me?" demanded Draven.

"You get to stay here and protect the inn with Sir Taric," said Ryze.

Jinx realised that she had been invited but Mr. Incognito had not. At last, somebody thought she was useful! She pulled her hextech revolver from under her pillow and sprang to her feet immediately. She laughed and stuck her tongue out at the Noxian muscleman.

"Remember to keep Amira on your side of the bed," she warned.

"Of course, Your Supreme Highness," agreed Draven with mock deference. "We wouldn't want you to sleep on a wet spot. You may run along now, and don't hurry back."

The door slammed and they were gone. Draven didn't notice which one of them had slammed it. He was examining himself in the mirror, making sure that he looked perfect for the wench who charged by the hour.

"Draaaven," he whispered.

12


	6. 6: Chapters 17, 18, 19 & 20

THE HAUNTED INN League of Legends Fan Fiction By Cavebear, 2014

**THE HAUNTED INN**

[17] Outside Old Glory

Since Mr. Incognito was not of the party, Ryze suggested that they ask Arif the Ranger. Ashe was in agreement. The Demacian consented immediately. He was eager to do his part in the fight against the necromancer whose name had become synonymous with treachery in Gorfia.

Outside, the storm had passed, but the moon was still behind clouds, so the night was dark, and the ground was still very wet. The silence was oppressive, so the party began to speak.

"Annie, can you do that trick with the fire whenever you want?" asked Ryze.

Annie nodded uncertainly, "I think so."

"Good. If the scarecrow attacks us, set it on fire."

"Yes, Uncle."

Arif noticed Ashe's frostbow. "Ah. You are a ranger too," he guessed. "Do you want vanguard or rearguard?"

"Rear. You take the van, as you know the terrain better."

"Fine, Belle." He moved quickly and confidently into the lead.

The sensation of being watched made the hairs on her neck rise, but Ashe remained calm. She knew that if and when battle was joined, she would not freeze under fire—she never had before.

"Are you ready, Günther?" asked Jinx.

"I was born ready," agreed Günther.

"Why do you talk to your gun?" asked Annie.

"Why do you talk to ghosts?" asked Jinx.

"Ghosts are my friends," replied Annie.

"Günther is my friend," said Jinx.

"Oh. That's all righty, then," said Annie brightly.

"Hahaha. All righty, then," snickered Jinx, and she rubbed her hand fondly in Annie's hair.

The party of five slowed as they approached the iron cage. Evil was in the air, a presence so overwhelming it was almost tangible, sucking at their souls like the muddy ground sucked at their feet.

Ryze moved to Arif's side. "See anything?" he asked.

"Not really, but I think he's out there. I thought I heard something moving in the cornfield, over there." The ranger pointed his arm.

Ryze extended his senses, and started. "By the Goddess, you're right. I feel a magical presence there. Let me know if it moves any closer."

He led Annie to the cage. That was no skeleton, that was a man, sitting with his back against the far bars, looking right at them! What illusion was this?

Ryze knelt at Annie's side. "We need to know whether Anzi Decadexos left any magic items behind when he fled long ago, and if so, where they might be hidden. Any additional information on the necromancer might be useful as well."

Annie nodded gravely.

[18] The Iron Cage

Annie approached the iron cage. The skeleton seemed pleased to see her.

"Greetings, Aleksandra. I am looking forward to knowing you," he projected his words directly from his spirit to hers. The rest of their conversation was just as silent.

"Greetings, Baron Christopher. I am looking forward to playing with you, too" projected Annie, for whom all communication with spirits, ghosts, elementals, and demons was play. "But my uncle needs some answers, and he thinks that it is very important that you help us. A bad spirit is endangering the inn."

"A spirit is endangering the inn? Or does the real danger lie with the spirit's master, the necromancer Anzi Decadexos? Decadexos, if he has the power, will attempt to control other spirits here as well as the one that is currently inhabiting the scarecrow."

"Can he control you?" asked Annie.

"Not yet. But he is looking for the looking for the Hand of Istvaan. With it he would be powerful enough control me. Not that I can do anything useful, sitting here in this cage."

"Who is Handov Istvaan?"

"My apologies, Aleksandra. Let me explain. Do you know who Anzi Decadexos is?"

"He is a bad man who killed a nice lady and got into a lot of trouble. He is a mage, and Mr. Incognito wants to kill him," replied Annie promptly.

"Who wouldn't want to kill the necromancer? I would happily do it myself if I could," projected the Chamberlain with energy. "All right, Aleksandra, let me tell you what I know. I was already dead by the time the Court Wizard fled, so I do not know exactly what magic he left behind. What I can tell you is that Anzi Decadexos had an item, an evil relic he kept secret from the Margrave: The Hand of Istvaan, that legendary necromancer from Zaun. It is said to greatly augment necromantic spells. As a respectable court wizard, he could not use such a thing in public, of course, but I found out about it and thought that I could blackmail Decadexos. The more fool I—he made me his next target."

"I thought that you were killed by Margrave William," said Annie uncertainly.

The Chamberlain continued, "Yes, I was, but it was because of lies told about me by Decadexos. He didn't want anybody to know he was using the Hand of Istvaan in secret, so he had to shut my mouth. He didn't exactly succeed, though. Apparently even death could not stop me from talking." The skeleton laughed, a strange sound that was heard by everyone nearby.

"I digressed. Now, Anzi Decadexos has returned, looking for this very Hand of Istvaan, and he even asked me if I knew where it was. What might one conclude from the fact that he is asking after it? That he does not have it, but he very much wants it and suspects it might still be in Old Glory. He also asked where Margrave William used to keep the War Gauntlet of Gotfrid the Left-Handed. He is obviously looking to acquire any magic he can."

"Why does the necromancer need a war gauntlet?" asked Annie.

"Decadexos was an assassin-mage, so he can fight with great skill, using daggers and such, in addition to using spells. He was also a master of poisons. Very dangerous. I hope you will be careful, Aleksandra."

"Don't worry. Tibbers will protect me," said Annie, holding up her stuffed bear.

Chris the Clever was shocked. Unlike most living men, he could sense the presence of the shadow energy bound to the toy in Annie's hand. "Be very careful, Aleksandra!" he warned, "With the Hand of Istvaan, Decadexos might have enough power to wrest control of your Tibbers from you."

For the first time, Annie was concerned. "Nononooo! I can't let him do that. I need to find this Hand before he does. Do you know where it is?"

Before Annie could continue, a horrible sound assaulted their ears, drowning out all possibility of conversation: A murder of crows, heading right for them. There was something clearly unnatural about the way they were flying in to attack. Magic was at work.

"Incoming. Too many to fight. Better duck and cover your faces," announced Ashe.

"We should try to disrupt their controller," said Ryze.

"Follow me," shouted Arif, and he rushed away from the cage and into the cornfield. Jinx was right behind him, followed by Ashe, advancing more carefully.

The crows swarmed in on Ryze and Annie. It was clear that the mysterious attacker considered the mage and his apprentice to be the biggest threat to him.

"Uncle Ryze, I need Chris to tell me where to find the Hand of Istvaan," pleaded Annie

"I'll protect you, child. You just find out what we need to know, and don't worry about the crows," said Ryze. He sat down cross-legged, took Annie onto his lap, and encircled her with his arms.

[19] Room Seven

Taric had finished his story, and now Alia was telling one of her own. It was a rather bawdy tale of an innkeepers daughter, more along the lines of a joke than an actual account, as Taric's had been.

Taric appeared to be listening politely, but his mind was elsewhere. Belle seemed to be angry with him, and he didn't know why. He hadn't said anything offensive or insensitive, and his actions had been proper at every step. He wasn't even taking advantage of Alia's bountiful body, despite the provocation of her nightclothes that revealed more than they concealed.

Maybe Belle was angry for some other reason, and not angry at him. He hoped so. Perhaps in the morning she would be in a better mood. He returned his attention to Alia, whose story was concluding. Taric clapped politely.

"Alia, let me tell you about another strange encounter I had not long ago. A mermaid, travelling on land," he suggested.

"Impossible. You are making up a tall tale, Sir Knight."

"No, I swear it is the truth. She was an enchantress, a Tidecaller, and she moved by levitating, and pushing herself along with her beautiful tail."

"Was she an evil enchantress? Did she try to steal your heart? It is said that all mermaids are beautiful and that they steal men's hearts and then they take them to their homes at the bottom of the sea. Do you know how the mermaid makes the man able to breathe water?"

"A spell, no doubt."

"No, the milk from her breasts. Did the mermaid try to get you to suck on her nipples?"

"Certainly not. Where do you get these strange ideas, Alia?"

"Everyone knows these things. And do you know what happens when a mermaid loses interest in her captive man?"

"No, should I?" asked Taric.

"She eats him!" exclaimed Alia.

Taric thought of the adventurous, idealistic young mermaid that he had rescued from brigands. He was quite certain that she would never eat a human. The thought was so outrageous that he broke out laughing. Alia joined him.

"Old wives tales, Alia. Sheer fantasy," commented Taric seriously after he stopped laughing. "You are just teasing me. Real mermaids are not like that."

Alia put her hand on Taric's chest and said, "I can tease you in other ways if you would prefer."

Taric took her hand in his own and kissed it gently. "That would not be wise. I suspect that what you have in mind could lead to other things. Unfortunately, if I give you the attention that you deserve and desire—which might take hours—" Alia nodded eagerly. "—I might be distracted from my duty to protect you and the others in this place from a great evil. Duty before pleasure, my dear." Alia pouted.

As if Taric's words were prophetic, a woman's shriek from down the corridor interrupted the conversation and Alia, shocked, said, "That sounded like my cousin Amira."

Taric was triply ready to help. Of course because of Alia, but also on his own account because of the promise made in the hall, and finally because the Lady Belle had asked him to protect the inn while she was absent. He picked up Adelaide, his mighty gem-encrusted hammer, and was out the door.

[20] Servants Hall

The screaming led Taric down the corridor, down the stairs, and into the servants hall. Next to the bar, a hysterical Amira was kneeling by the enormous bulk of a prone Bonnie. Nearby lay the Steward, flat on his back. Both of them had purple faces frozen in expressions of agony. They looked quite dead, but Taric put his hands on them to make sure.

Poison. A simple way for an assassin-mage to kill if he was trying to conserve his _mana_. Anzi Decadexos had been here recently. Taric looked around nervously. The hall was deserted, but he could hear someone coming.

It was Mr. Incognito, with a large axe in each hand. He leapt lightly down the stairs two at a time. The Noxian warrior was socially graceless but physically graceful, Taric noticed.

"Dead, are they?" he asked Taric without preamble.

Taric nodded. Amira burst into tears.

"Why would the necromancer kill them?" wondered Taric out loud. "He could hold no ancient grudge, since neither of them was alive 50 years ago, and they did not seem like the type to antagonise a potential guest over his lunch. What reason then could he have?"

"A feint." stated Incognito. "You have fought duels, I suppose."

"Yes, of course," said Taric, "although I try to avoid them whenever possible. What has cold-blooded murder to do with feinting?"

"You feint to draw your opponent out of position. It looks like an attack, but…"

Taric finished Incognito's sentence "…the real attack is elsewhere."

"Exactly. Anzi Decadexos wants us here wasting time, so that he can attack without our interference."

Taric met the Noxian's eyes and nodded. He had underestimated the man. Incognito was not at all slow when fighting was imminent. "Gareth the Innkeeper. The only one here who knew him many years ago."

Incognito turned to Amira. "Where is the Innkeeper, lass? Lead us to him immediately."

"I fear we may already be too late," whispered Taric.

7


	7. 7: Chapters 21, 22, 23 & 24

THE HAUNTED INN League of Legends Fan Fiction By Cavebear, 2014

**THE HAUNTED INN**

[21] Outside the Inn

Arif the Ranger did not see the Scarecrow's attack, but he heard the rustling of the cornstalks and jumped aside. A wickedly sharpened stick thrust through the air where he had been a moment before. He loosed an arrow point blank, but it glanced off the Scarecrow, doing little to no damage. Arif pulled out his long knife and warily took his guard. A knife against a spear was not a good matchup. What he needed was a flail, but of course he was a ranger and not a farmer, why would he carry flail, hoe, rake, or pitchfork?

The spear came at him again and suddenly he was fighting for his life.

Jinx arrived on the scene. Hurting this thing was difficult, as she knew from experience, but damaging its legs would prevent it from escaping again. She aimed Günther and fired. Scarecrow's leg was knocked back, and it staggered about, screaming, "Aww, aww, aww!"

Arif seized the opportunity and slashed it with his long knife. He made good contact, but Scarecrow didn't seem damaged at all. This wasn't good. It might take him dozens of hits to take down Scarecrow, while the thing only required one good hit with the spear to drop the Ranger.

Ryze growled as he felt the crows pecking at him. His arcane shield prevented them from magically draining his life force, but there was nothing to do but try to endure the physical damage, and hope he didn't suffer the death of 1,000 cuts. "By the Goddess, Annie, you must be quick! The fighters will need my help to defeat the undead servitor in the cornfield, but we also need the wisdom of the Chamberlain to know how to fight the necromancer."

Annie was already re-establishing her spiritual link to the skeleton. Ryze was impressed by her powers of concentration. The maddening caws of the crows, the wind from their wings and the scratches of their claws as they flew close, not to mention the pricking and tearing of their beaks—a lesser mage would be completely unable to focus. Annie was truly a prodigy.

"It's no use—our attacks are barely damaging this thing," shouted Arif in frustration.

"Hahaha. It's no use," snickered Jinx, and she shot Scarecrow right in the head.

Scarecrow tumbled to the ground in a spasm of flailing sticks.

"Gotcha," taunted Jinx, but her delight soon faded, as Scarecrow scrambled to its feet again.

"Rrr, rrr, rrr!" it screeched, gesturing with one of its hands.

Blood immediately gushed from Jinx' nose.

The ranger profited from the fact that Scarecrow had only one hand on the spear. He seized it with both of his hands and attempted to pull it from Scarecrow's grasp, but the undead construct had uncanny strength. Scarecrow pointed its spellcasting hand at Arif, and he started to bleed as well.

"Demacia!" he gasped.

Ashe stepped into the open, with an arrow ready to fire. She had been charging the arrow with magical frost for several seconds, and it looked almost like an icicle. She sent the arrow directly into the shoulder of the arm with which Scarecrow was gripping the spear.

One second later, Scarecrow was knocked over by Jinx' flying tackle. The girl was almost as skinny as Scarecrow, but she had momentum and reckless determination on her side.

Arif was left holding the spear. Rather than attempt to skewer Scarecrow, he used the weapon as a club, attempting to break Scarecrow's limbs.

Annie's scream of pain as one of the crows tore her ear reminded everyone that they were not just battling Scarecrow. Time was also against them.

The Chamberlain projected, "If Decadexos didn't find the Hand of Istvaan in his old quarters, it must have been found and moved. Gareth would know—ask him! The Gauntlet was hidden in a secret chamber off of the Margrave's bedroom. Look for the stars—the Bear will open the door. Now go, Aleksandra!"

"Go, Uncle!" said Annie eagerly.

Ryze stood up and draped Annie's arms around his neck.

"Hold on tight, and don't let go for any reason. I warn you, I will be attempting an arcane blast, but don't worry—any magical energies that you feel are not directed at you," said Ryze as he broke into a trot, then a flat out run into the cornfield. The crows continued to attack, and without Ryze's arcane shield to protect them, every scratch on Annie's arm drained her life force.

"I don't like this," screamed Annie.

Arif shouted in triumph. The spear, wielded as a cudgel, shattered Scarecrow's spellcasting arm just below the shoulder.

"Aww, aww, aww!" howled Scarecrow. Freeing its feet from a clinging Jinx, it grabbed its severed arm in its other hand and bounded up to the attack.

The ranger's next shout was a shout of agony, as the splintered wood was thrust deep into his thigh. Pulling its new weapon free in a fountain of blood and splinters, Scarecrow turned to face Ashe, who had nocked another arrow and was charging it with frost.

Everything happened all happened at once:

Scarecrow lifted its good arm and threw the other arm like a javelin straight for Ashe's heart.

Ryze and Annie arrived on the scene. Arcane energy flashed like lightning from the scholar's fingertips and streaked for Scarecrow.

Ashe released her arrow, which passed the missile coming in the other direction and penetrated Scarecrow's right hip.

Jinx rolled onto one knee and Günther shot Scarecrow in the back.

Arif, blood pouring down his leg, growled, "Bearkillers are immune to pain!" as he clobbered Scarecrow over the head with the haft of the spear.

The frost arrow chilled Scarecrow's hips so that they seized up, making it impossible for it to retain its balance.

Scarecrow's flying arm penetrated Ashe's breastplate, drawing blood. She staggered but remained standing. "Nothing the soft touch of Taric's gentle healing hands won't cure," Ashe remarked calmly.

"No pain!" A stentorian shout as the ranger smashed Scarecrow hard enough to knock it over. The spear fell from Arif's hands as he clutched his thigh, trying to stem the flow of blood.

Scarecrow fell to the ground, Ryze's arcane energy arcing from extremity to extremity. "Haww, haww, haww!" screamed Scarecrow, sparks flying from its mouth.

Jinx picked up the spear and drove it into Scarecrow's lopsided head. "Get Jinxed!" she shouted, getting excited.

Suddenly, the evil spirit dissipated, abandoning the battered, shattered frame of the monster, turning Scarecrow into just a scarecrow in an instant.

Everyone stopped and stared quietly for a few seconds. Then Ryze spoke to Annie:

"Set it on fire. We don't want it coming back."

"Take that!" said Annie as she ignited the wood and cloth.

Anzi Decadexos' undead servitor was finally destroyed.

[22] The Margrave's Bedchamber

"I knew that you would be back one day. I had hoped that you were dead, but deep in my heart I knew that you were still alive. Anzi Decadexos, I have been waiting for you."

"Heh, heh, heh. Gangly Gareth, we meet again. But Gareth, what is the matter with you? Oh, I see—the fifty years have turned you from an annoying teenager sneaking around spying on the adults, into an old man. Whereas I have become 50 years stronger in my craft. You have no chance." Decadexos had a deep voice, resonant with power, full of arrogance.

"You killed my father!" accused Gareth.

"No, Bohort Bearkiller killed your father. Apparently the years have destroyed your memory as well as your health," the mocking voice of Anzi Decadexos was filled with scorn.

"You are to blame for my father's death. And Bearkiller's. And the death of the Gentle Rose. And Terse the Hermit…"

"…and your wife Bonnie, and your steward Iain," smirked the necromancer, proud of his recent evil deeds.

Gareth groaned, then roared with rage. "You'll pay, filthy creature of the night! I swear it!"

"Heh, heh. I think not. If you hand over the Hand of Istvaan and the War Gauntlet of Gotfrid immediately, I will let you live. Otherwise, I will have to kill you and extract the information from your soul."

"Do your worst, mage! You are powerless against me," shouted Gareth and he drew a rod tipped with a skeletal human hand from beneath his robes. "Drain Life," invoked the old man as he cackled, "How does it feel to be on the receiving end of black magic for a change?"

Anzi Decadexos howled in pain, but he did not fall. "You will die for this," he gasped, "Die a dozen times." He reached into his own clothing, fetching a throwing knife.

"None of that, assassin!" said Gareth. "Agony Pulse." He sent another spell at Decadexos, causing the necomancer's fingers to twist painfully into claws. The knife fell to the floor.

The necromancer was not yet beaten, however. With his other hand, he snatched a vial from a pocket and hurled it in the same motion. It shattered on the innkeeper's chest, spattering him with a greasy jelly. "Fire of Noxus? That will be too slow. You have lost, hellspawn!" said Gareth triumphantly. He started invoking another spell.

His invocation was interrupted and he started screaming. Smoke started rising from a dozen points where Decadexos' potion had eaten through the robes and into the skin.

"Not the Fire," said Decadexos, "The Acid Venom of Kraal. Now who is losing?" The necromancer stepped close to the innkeeper and seized the rod, wrenching it out of the old man's grasp after a brief struggle.

"Damn you! Damn you forever!" screamed Gareth in frustration. He collapsed into a chair, clawing desperately at his chest.

"Now, fool. Tell me where the War Gauntlet of Gotfrid is hidden, and I will grant you a merciful death and not torment your soul. Deny me and I will make you suffer for all eternity." Decadexos raised the Hand of Istvaan to point at Gareth's heart.

"Aaahh! You have won, curse you. I will tell you two things: Firstly, the War Gauntlet is hidden in Yvianne's bedchamber. William used to use its warding function to protect his beloved at night. Secondly, you will not find it in time. Ha ha ha! At this very moment several courageous and resourceful heroes are on their way here to destroy you. Your hour has come, Anzi Decadexos! I'll see you in Hell!"

"You always were an annoying little brat. I will listen to no more of your nonsense. Die, Gareth!" Decadexos sent a bolt of purple light at the old mage. Weakened by the venom, Gareth tried to resist, but it was a futile attempt. In a few moments he was dead.

Anzi Decadexos stood a moment in thought. He had the Hand, which was the more important of the two magic items. He could sneak away immediately before these heroes found him, or he could stay and look for the War Gauntlet. He knew that his undead scarecrow had been defeated, but surely it must have killed or crippled several of the champions. They would have to tend to their injuries before confronting him. Therefore, he had some time…He left the Margrave's bedchamber to search that of the Marchioness.

He did not notice the faint smile on the old innkeeper mage's dead lips.

[23] The Margrave's Bedchamber

Shortly thereafter, two girls ran into the room. They had left the adults—the wounded—behind. The blue-haired youth and the red-haired child were searching for the stars mentioned by the skeleton, but had no success. They found the dead body of the innkeeper, a throwing knife, and some broken glass, but no stars. They looked under the furniture, in the closet, and on the ceiling, but no stars.

"Do you need a hint?" asked a whisper in Annie's mind.

"Margrave William, is that you? You are very weak," replied Annie.

"I have been hiding," said the ghost. "Do you want a hint?"

"Yes please, Milord."

"You are very polite. Are you a well-behaved child? Have you been good?" asked the spirit.

"I always eat all of my vegetables," agreed Annie.

"Good girl. I will tell you the trick: The stars you are seeking can only be seen in a silver mirror. Use the hand mirror in my dressing table."

"Thank you, Milord."

Annie explained the trick to Jinx. Aided by the mirror, they soon found the magic stars on the wall. Jinx traced the constellation of the Bear, and the secret door opened. The girls disappeared into the secret closet, and the door closed behind them.

Shortly thereafter Draven entered the room, talking to Amira.

"The old man wasn't in his room. Do you really think that he would be in this unused part of the inn?" Amira shrieked and pointed to Gareth's body. "Guess so. Looks like we are too late to save the geezer, but he looks freshly killed, so the necromancer is probably not far away."

"Right you are, Executioner," announced a voice from the doorway behind him. "I'll just kill you and be on my way, I believe. Drain Life!"

The spell, intended for the Noxian warrior, instead hit the woman hanging on his arm. Amira started screaming, dropping to her knees and clutching at her heart.

Draven stepped in front of her and threw one of his axes at the necromancer. The assassin-mage dodged it and the axe sunk deeply into the doorframe.

"How careless of you, Draven. Your fans would be so disappointed in you," said Anzi Decadexos as he prepared another spell.

"Fine, I'll take you out in hand-to-hand, you criminal," decided Draven, and he bounded lightly forward, brandishing his other axe.

"Wrong again. Chains of Darkness!"

Draven found himself grappled by tentacles of dark energy and unable to advance. He struggled fiercely but to no avail. Here was where having the Gem Knight present would have been quite useful. The necromancer would have had trouble dealing with both of them at once, thought Draven. Unfortunately, the Demacian Ranger and the Freljord Battle-maiden needed Taric's healing, and the chivalrous knight would never dream of not attempting to save a life.

So Draven was alone. He would have to deal with this situation by himself. Too bad there was no audience to appreciate the genius of what he was about to attempt.

[24] Servants Hall

"Perfection. You won't even have a scar," stated Taric with satisfaction, as he removed his hands from Ashe's chest. "Berit can help you back into your breastplate now."

Ashe's attendant had followed Ryze's calls for help, as had Taric and Alia.

"Sir Taric," said the lady.

"At your service," replied the Gem Knight.

"Thank you." Ashe threw her arms around Taric's neck and kissed him. Taric kissed her back for only a couple of seconds before breaking the kiss to speak.

"Milady, Incognito is with Amira, searching for the necromancer, who intends to kill the innkeeper, we believe. When I left them, they were heading for the Margrave's suite. We should join them immediately."

"Duty before pleasure," added Alia, shaking her head. This knight's virtue seemed incorruptible.

"Of course," said Ashe, stepping back. "Berit."

While the old battle-maiden laced the Frost Archer back into her breastplate, Taric was addressing the Demacian Ranger Arif, lying on a table. Taric had healed him as well. Arif was trying to get up, but the knight pushed him back down.

"My friend, you have lost far too much blood. If you reopen your wounds, you will bleed to death. I am afraid that you are hors de combat for the time being," said Taric.

"But, I want revenge."

"The entire civilised world cries out for revenge against this man. I promise that I will strike a blow in your name…"

"…and for Bohort Bearkiller, my kinsman," demanded Arif.

"Agreed. Rest easy, friend. The necromancer's reckoning is imminent." Taric squeezed the ranger's shoulder gently. "I must go now. Alia, please stay here with Mr. Arif."

Amira's piercing scream could be heard all throughout the inn. Before the echoes died away, Taric was running, the mighty hammer Adelaide held before him with both hands. Ashe was right behind him.

9


	8. 8: Chapters 25, 26, 27 & 28

THE HAUNTED INN League of Legends Fan Fiction By Cavebear, 2014

**THE HAUNTED INN**

[25] The Margrave's Bedchamber

Anzi Decadexos could see Draven trying to make a desperate throw with his other axe, but the throw went wild. The necromancer started casting his next spell.

The axe bounced off the ceiling, then off the wall above the doorway, and struck Decadexos in the back. The axe had lost much of its force, but it still opened a serious wound and momentarily disrupted the necromancer's concentration.

"Oh, yeah. That one was a Draaaven Special," grinned the Noxian, as he finally managed to break free of the weakening Chains of Darkness. Before he could move any closer a throwing knife hit him in the arm.

"Signifer's Nightshade should slow you down, Draven. And since your style relies on speed and coordination…you'll soon be finished," gloated the assassin. Draven growled but he was already whipping his belt from around his waist to around his arm.

"We'll see about that," he said as he tied off the tourniquet, cutting off the blood flow to and from his arm.

The sound of heavy feet pounding in their direction interrupted the duel.

Decadexos decided that once he killed Draven, he could leave. The others did not know him from personal experience, and probably wouldn't pursue him to the end of the earth the way the stubborn and overconfident Noxian executioner would. He had the Hand of Istvaan, which was the essential item. The War Gauntlet was gravy—no point in endangering his life for it.

Once again he regretted the fact that although he had managed to reclaim his knives and potions as he made his escape from Noxus, his magic items had been nowhere to be found. Some powerful wizard was probably studying them at this moment. That was a problem for another time…

"Nightfall," he intoned, as he plunged the corridor into darkness. That should buy him the time he needed to finish off the annoying ex-gladiator.

The Drain Life spell had expired, but Amira was still alive_. She must have excellent vitality_, thought Draven. _We'll see exactly how much later. I want to get my full hour's worth_.

Without the belt, his pants were sliding down. To save time, he drew his knife and sliced them from waste to knee. Then he tore the rest and leaped out of them. He was unconcerned: as a gladiator he was used to appearing in public wearing almost nothing.

Draven prepared to move to the attack. He found himself grappled from behind. Using the Hand of Istvaan, Anzi Decadexos had animated the corpse of the innkeeper, and it was now attacking the Noxian. Draven could hear the necromancer's mocking laughter, and it infuriated him. He was supposed to be the one who got the last laugh.

The black magic gave the old innkeeper's body unnatural strength, but Draven was nothing short of mighty, and he was a trained warrior as well. As the corpse clawed at him, tearing at his flesh, he methodically broke each of its limbs in turn, followed by the neck. He hurled the broken body, still twitching from the magic, into a corner. He was bleeding from several places where the undead fingers had torn the skin, but his wounds were superficial. He turned to face Anzi Decadexos, but the assassin-mage was nowhere to be seen.

He helped Amira to her feet. "How do you feel, Gorgeous," he asked, as her arm encircled his waist for support.

Draven was distracted from his appreciation of the woman as Sir Taric stumbled out of the darkness into the room, followed by Lady Belle.

"Anzi Decadexos was just here. I, Draven, wounded him," announced Draven proudly. There was no point in concealing his identity any further. "He probably ran off to regenerate in the shadows somewhere."

"Good work, Sir Draven," said Taric, giving the Noxian the benefit of the doubt and referring to him as an equal for the first time, "I am relieved to see that you have successfully protected Miss Amira. I was afraid that the necromancer had been trying to kill her."

"That he was," whispered Amira.

"By the way, Sir Knight, it's not that I crave the touch of your gentle healing hands, but I wouldn't mind a little help here," said Draven, gesturing to his wounded arm.

Taric nodded and looked at the arm, while completely ignoring the tight red leather drawers that were calling attention to Draven's package. His fingers began to glow as he healed the Noxian warrior. "Is that good enough, or do you need me to kiss it better," joked Taric.

Draven made a fist and waved it under Taric's chin. "All fixed," he said. He then removed the belt from his arm and replaced it around his waist, although there was no longer any need for it.

"Looks good," commented Taric, gesturing at Draven's outfit, "but it would look even better with sequins."

Ashe decided to put an immediate stop to the men's banter, before it got out of hand. "The scholar Ryze was able to sense the undead scarecrow. He might be able to help us find the necromancer," suggested the Freljord Battle-maiden.

"Where is the mage, then?" asked Draven.

"He is looking for the girls," answered Taric.

"Ancestors! Where are the girls?" exclaimed Ashe, suddenly worried.

The adults looked at each other uneasily. Nobody had seen Annie and Jinx for quite some time.

[26] In the dark

Sometimes little things can result in big problems. The girls knew how to enter the secret room, but not how to get back out. When the secret door closed behind them, Annie and Jinx found themselves in total darkness. Neither of them was afraid, as each had a 'friend': Annie had a stuffed bear she called Tibbers, and Jinx had her gun Günther. They started searching with their hands, and soon discovered a side table. Feeling around, Jinx found what felt like a pendant. She put it around her neck.

It felt very cold. It was absorbing the heat from her body. Shortly thereafter, the pendant began emitting light. In the dim light, she discovered another pendant, which she gave to Annie. The girls noticed that they were matching pendants, but one of the necklace chains was longer.

"One for him and one for her," said Annie, who remembered stories, was good at puzzles, and thought better than people twice her size. "William and Yvianne."

By the light of the two pendants, the girls had no trouble finding the War Gauntlet of Gotfrid the Left-Handed. It was on a shelf above the side table. Jinx jumped onto the table in order to reach it. Once the girls had it, they spent a few minutes examining it.

It had metal plates on the outside, and was studded with semiprecious bloodstones and moonstones. The gauntlet was intended to cover the right forearm of a large man all the way to the elbow, so it was much too big for Jinx and could almost have served as a hip boot for Annie. The girls giggled as they tried it on.

It didn't seem to do anything special, until, with the gauntlet on Jinx' arm up to the armpit, Annie touched the first three stones on the wrist in sequence. The gauntlet started to glow, generating an aura that soon spread to encompass both girls with a very faint pink warmth.

"I feel safer now," said Jinx.

"That must be the warding function," said Annie. "Baron Chris told me about it. It prevents bad dreams."

"I'm not tired."

"Me neither. Let's go find my uncle now."

"Sure." Jinx tucked the gauntlet into her belt.

The room was more like a corridor, so logically there might be another secret door at the other end—to the Marchioness' bedchamber for example—but they didn't know how to open that secret door either. Jinx stumbled across a ring in the floor. Upon examination it proved to be attached to a circular trapdoor.

With great effort, Jinx lifted the trapdoor to reveal a shaft with a ladder going down quite some way.

"Want to go exploring?" she asked.

"It may be our only way out," replied Annie.

"Down we go," agreed Jinx.

[27] In the corridor

Anzi Decadexos needed more power. As predicted by Gareth, he had been unable to find the gauntlet, but he had a new plan: The Cave of Sorrow. The lodge had been considered haunted even before the events of fifty years past. It had been built on the site of an old hermitage that was itself built on an ancient place of power.

A thousand years before, a community long since vanished had practised human sacrifice in a cave. The lodge had been built over the cave, and the cave could be accessed through a side passage of the service passageway that connected the wine cellar to the outdoors.

A simple dark ritual should allow the necromancer to tap into the power of the cave. All he needed was a human sacrifice.

Conveniently, one was striding down the corridor towards him right now.

"Nightfall."

Ryze saw a strange man who could only be Anzi Decadexos, carrying a rod that was no doubt the Hand of Istvaan. Then everything went dark.

"Ball Lightning," he said as he hurled energy at where the assassin-mage had last been seen standing. Ball lightning was a homing spell, so it should hit its target even if he had moved a little. He heard the scream of pain that indicated a direct hit. The scream was getting closer, and as it did, it changed into a battle-cry.

Ryze stepped back, but not fast enough. With a savage flourish, Anzi Decadexos sliced him across the chest. The cut was not deep, and Ryze launched a counterattack.

"Lightning Fist," he shouted as he struck his adversary, channelling as much _mana_ as he could into the attack.

The darkness vanished as the necromancer cast his next spell. Anzi Decadexos was enraged. He was used to preying upon the weak, not dealing with people who fought back at every opportunity. Fortunately his chains of darkness should hold the other mage until the sleep poison knocked him out.

"Chains of Darkness!"

Ryze was immobilised, but that did not stop him from retaliating.

"Arcane Blast." He calmly sprayed energy at the other.

Anzi Decadexos screamed with frustration. "Drop already!"

Nothing happened. Ryze looked at him and raised his eyebrows. "What kind of a spell was that? My turn now…"

He staggered, looked confused, then fell senseless to the floor as poison paralysed his brain.

Decadexos reflected that if he took much more punishment, he would be forced to cross over from life to unlife. That would be unfortunate.

But not the end, of course.

[28] In the corridor

The distant sounds of two mages duelling reached the Margrave's bedchamber, but only because of the screaming and shouting. Taric was not sure why, but both warriors and mages enjoyed making noise while they fought, and these habits spanned diverse cultures. He preferred to fight in silence, although he did talk to himself sometimes. He would be shouting in his next fight, however, as he had promised Arif that he would strike blows for him and for his kinsman, the late Bohort Bearkiller.

"Who wants some Draven? Let's do this," said Draven as he grabbed his axes and took the lead.

"You had best go and wait with your cousin and the ranger in the hall," advised Taric to Amira.

"Swiftly now," said Ashe as she stepped past Taric, slapping him on the behind to encourage him to get moving. And for luck. He followed her obediently out of the room and down the corridor.

When they reached the spot where the mages had been duelling, there was nobody to be seen. Some splashes of blood, barely noticeable, and a few wisps of smoke dissipating in the air were the only signs of combat.

"Shall we split up and search for them?" asked Taric.

"That bastard is taking us out one by one. I say we stick together," replied Draven. "What orders does the lady leader have for us?"

It was impossible to tell if he was mocking her or deferring to her, but Ashe was used to making decisions. It was tempting to get rid of the Noxian, but they might need his strength. "We stay together," she said firmly. "Where do you think they have gone?"

"Outside. He knows he can't take us and that Ryze guy together, so he is fleeing. Ryze is probably following him," suggested Draven.

"Into a servants passage. He knows this place and he knows that we do not," offered Taric. "He's going to try to lose us. Then he will return and try to kill us one at a time once our guard is down."

The two men looked expectantly at Ashe, as if expecting her to have the answer. She said thoughtfully, "If Ryze is in pursuit, he would be making noise so that we will know where they are. He is not making any noise, so…"

"…So he is dead already," finished Draven. "But why did Anzi Decadexos take the body with him? Makes no sense."

"Unless Ryze is not dead. Maybe he plans to use the scholar as a hostage," said Taric.

With a sudden nausea, Ashe had a grim intuition. Necromancers did not need hostages, but they did need life force…

"For sacrifices," she hissed. Then she had a horrible thought. "What if he already has the two girls?"

Taric looked at her in horror. "But where?" he asked.

Ashe said flatly, "Let's check all of the rooms in this wing. If we don't find them, we will return to the servants hall and see whether Arif, Alia, and Amira can help us.

Draven was already striding down the corridor, kicking open all the doors.

7


	9. 9: Chapters 29, 30, 31 & 32

THE HAUNTED INN League of Legends Fan Fiction By Cavebear, 2014

**THE HAUNTED INN**

[29] Cave of Sorrow

The ladder ended in a small room with a narrow corridor leader out. The narrow corridor joined a larger one sloping downward, and the girls followed it until it opened into a large cave. The soft pale light from the pendants was insufficient to illuminate the depths of the darkness, and the atmosphere felt oppressive.

"I don't like this place," complained Annie, and she reached for Jinx' hand. Slowly the two girls moved forward, hand in hand, until they came to a large stone altar. There was nothing but dust in the blood grooves, but Jinx imagined that she smelled fresh blood. Releasing Annie, she vaulted up onto the slab, and looked around in all directions.

Jinx' pink eyes could see in the dark better than the average person, and she could vaguely make out the walls, but she could see no signs of another exit.

"I think we needed to go in the other direction," she said. "Nothing of interest here, and no other way out that I can see."

Just then, they heard a slithering sound, from the corridor from which they came—their only way out.

Annie ran around to hide behind the altar. Jinx jumped lightly down beside her. She pointed to the pendants. Annie tucked hers inside her sweater. Jinx stuffed hers into the pocket of her shorts.

The slithering sound came closer. Suddenly a light sprang up, then another. Small firepots. Peering around the side of the altar, Jinx could see a man dragging another man to the altar. She could not tell in the dim light whether she knew either man or not.

The dragger lifted the other and dumped him onto the altar. Pulling a wicked-looking dagger from beneath his robes, he started an incantation in a language unknown to Annie.

Annie did not know the man doing the chanting, but she recognized the robes of the man on the altar: it was her Uncle Ryze! She knew nothing of ritual magic, but she suspected that the stranger would soon be plunging his dagger into her uncle. That seemed like an evil thing to do. Therefore, this stranger must be Anzi Decadexos.

Annie touched Jinx' hand to get her attention. Then she pointed up, trying to communicate that it was her uncle upon the altar. Jinx nodded, misunderstanding that Annie wanted her to shoot the man on the other side of the altar.

Jinx kissed Günther. _This is it, my friend_, she thought.

Without any hesitation or fear, she sprang to her feet, levelled the revolver, and shot a surprised Anzi Decadexos right in the left eye.

[30] Servants Hall

Sir Taric sat glumly at a table in servants hall. They had searched every room and there was no sign of the girls. Beside him, Lady Belle was looking impatient. He looked around at Draven, Arif, Amira, and Alia, but none of them would meet his gaze.

For all of their strangeness, the two girls had somehow crept into their hearts. Whether it was the enthusiasm of youth, innocence, or something undefinable, the thought of losing Annie and Jinx to death, or a fate worse than death, at the hands of the necromancer was almost too much to bear.

"There must be a secret place, a magic place, hidden somewhere nearby. A place no-one but a necromancer would want to hide. Think!" demanded Ashe.

"The stables?" suggested Arif. "There may be some magic there from the first time Anzi Decadexos was killed."

"The Kissing Gazebo?" suggested Alia. "It's seen its share of magical moments."

"The four-poster in the Marchioness' bedchamber is a nice private place," added Amira. "Comfortable, too." She smiled as if at pleasant memories.

"The girls were last seen going into the inn, so an outside location seems unlikely. And we have already checked all of the bedchambers. There must be some other location," said Ashe.

"The Cave of Sorrows!" exclaimed Arif. "All of the old stories claim that Old Glory was built on top of it."

"It's just a legend," said Amira. "Just stories of an evil place to scare children."

"If it exists, it would be underground. An evil underground place," mused Ashe.

Taric touched his forehead in thought. The first attack, that seemed so long ago now...He slapped his hand on the table and exclaimed, "The wine cellar! There was a secret passage out of the wine cellar, and that is where we were first attacked. Anzi Decadexos must have been hiding out down there…and has probably returned there, to regenerate his wounds and to practice more of his foul necromancy. Follow me!"

The Gem Knight led the way to the wine cellar. Alia dutifully started to follow him.

"Not you ladies," insisted Ashe. "This is a task for true champions. Not you either, Berit."

Arif walked slowly after her, but stopped suddenly, "I am still dizzy and weak. I am sorry." He collapsed into a chair, assisted by Alia and Amira.

"Don't worry, Draven will fight enough for two," said the Noxian confidently.

Arif stared at him, "Draven, as in…the Noxian Executioner? You are the Executioner?"

"That's right, baby. I'm Draaaven. You got a problem with that?" he grinned.

"No, Sir. This is my territory, and…I give you full permission to execute Anzi Decadexos. Good luck!" The Demacian Ranger extended his hand.

The Noxian Executioner clasped it, and the two foes made peace. Draven strode after Taric and Ashe, a big smile on his face. He loved it when even his enemies knew his name.

[31] The Final Encounter

The necromancer's face went blank and he staggered back. Jinx shot him in the chest for good measure. Anzi Decadexos toppled onto his back with a thud.

"Give my regards to your scarecrow friend," said Jinx pleasantly, as though this were a routine exchange of pleasantries.

Annie wanted up on the altar, so Jinx gave her a boost, then commenced reloading the revolver—after kissing it.

"I can always count on you," said the blue-haired youth.

"Glad to be of service," agreed Günther.

Neither girl noticed the blank eye socket of the necromancer start glowing with an evil green light.

"Wake up, wake up!" insisted Annie, but Ryze was still out cold.

The red-haired girl continued trying to rouse her uncle, and eventually he started responding. He groaned. Anzi Decadexos moaned.

Ryze started to sit up. Anzi Decadexos started to sit up. He let loose with an inhuman scream, which was only natural, since he was no longer human. He had become some kind of undead wight.

"Uh-oh, he's back," observed Jinx. "And I think he's pissed with me."

The wight stood up and approached the altar where Annie was reviving Ryze. In one hand he gripped the Hand of Istvaan, while the other reached out to touch…

"Watch out!" shouted Jinx, jumping up onto the altar and kicking the wight in the head. There was no noticeable effect.

…not Annie, and not Ryze, but Annie's stuffed animal. With unnatural strength the wight plucked it from the girl's grasp. Then the undead necromancer laughed long and hard, while Annie screamed in distress.

"Don't you dare hurt my friend," she squealed.

"Ho ho ho. With this power I am invincible. Watch while I conjure…" announced the gloating Anzi Decadexos.

"Nonono nooo!" screamed Annie as she shook her head wildly, remembering the warning of Chris, the skeleton in the cage.

"…a shadow demon."

The Cave of Sorrows was suddenly filled with a towering presence. It was vaguely humanoid, and tendrils of shadow energy flickered off it like flames. It stood silently awaiting instructions, but the necromancer was busy laughing fiendishly.

"Ha ha ha ha ho ho ho!"

Ryze slipped off the altar, picked up his niece, and placed her behind him. "I don't know if we can harm this thing. We may have to run for it."

Jinx pulled the War Gauntlet of Gotfrid from her belt and tossed it to Ryze. "Maybe this can protect us?" she asked hopefully.

"Tibbers," sobbed a disconsolate Annie.

A voice rang out from the entrance to the cave.

"Anzi Decadexos, your final hour has come. Prepare to meet your doom," announced Taric, brandishing Adelaide, his mighty gem-studded hammer. Then he charged. Behind him Draven and Ashe advanced into the cave, weapons at the ready.

"Destroy them." Anzi Decadexos ordered the shadow demon, pointing at the newcomers. The monster immediately turned to engage the Gem Knight.

"For Arif!" Taric swung Adelaide into the chest of the shadow demon. It was not even staggered. "For Bohort Bearkiller!" he swung again. The demon absorbed the shock without complaint. With a simple bash it knocked Taric back. Shadows flickered like flames where the knight had been hit. "For Yvianne, the Gentle Rose of Gorfia!" Taric continued to attack.

Draven and Ashe had moved to flanking positions. A frost-covered arrow sank into the demon's right side, while a huge axe embedded itself in its left arm. For the first time, the monster was hurt. It released a psychic howl that lashed everybody in the cave, and flung Taric through the air. The knight landed heavily, but was soon up on his feet, panting defiance.

The undead necromancer, after watching his demon in action for a few seconds, turned his attention back to the scholar and the two girls. It was time to squash these annoying pests once and for all. Keeping Annie behind him, Ryze backed slowly away from the altar. Anzi Decadexos walked slowly around it, casually using his chains of darkness to immobilize Jinx on top of the altar.

The shadow demon had forced Taric back so that he was now standing beside Ashe.

"Know that I intend to fight to the death, Milady. It has been my pleasure to know you," said Taric, and he hurled himself once more at the demon.

"I forbid you to die, and that is my command," responded Ashe, loosing another arrow. This one struck the demon in its featureless face, but the monster was no more affected by that than by any of the other attacks.

Draven noticed that the shadow demon was engaged, and the necromancer's attention was elsewhere. He took advantage of the moment and with a big two-handed swing, he hurled his remaining axe sideways through the air.

The axe struck the wight and severed the head cleanly from the body.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for Anzi Decadexos to fall, but the wight simply reached down and picked up his head. He held it in his left hand while advancing on Ryze, and pointing the Hand of Istvaan at the scholar mage's heart with his right hand.

"Drain Life," he intoned triumphantly, neither death nor the severing of his vocal cords an apparent impediment to his ability to speak.

Ryze raised the War Gauntlet on his right hand to block the attack, and it was immediately engulfed in a pulsating purple light, but Ryze himself was not harmed, so he leaned forward and grabbed the Hand of Istvaan.

Now began a titanic struggle for control of the evil relic. Anzi Decadexos had his unnatural undead strength, but Ryze had his determination and the power of the gauntlet.

The Gem Knight went down under a hammer-blow from one of the shadow demon's arms, and the demon advanced to crush him with a massive foot. Draven, with no axes left, leapt to the knight's side and pulled him to safety just in time.

"Thank you, Sir Draven," shouted Ashe, and she shot the monster in the leg. The shadow demon switched its attention to her and began to attack. The Frost Archer backed up, but soon found herself against the wall with no further retreat possible. Things looked grim. Ashe decided that she, like Sir Taric, would fight to the death, and she pulled what would likely be her last arrow from her quiver.

It was made of frost crystal, and she had long wanted to try it, but always she had saved it for a dire emergency. The situation could hardly be more dire. The crystal arrow frosted over rapidly, eagerly absorbing the magical energy from the bow.

Draven pulled out his erstwhile 'utensil' and struck a mighty blow. The shadow demon blocked, and the long knife's blade snapped, leaving Draven weaponless. The demon followed up with a fist to the ex-gladiator's chest that knocked the Noxian flat.

From a kneeling position, Taric smashed his hammer onto the monster's foot. The demon responded by kicking him across the floor. The knight's head and shoulder struck the wall of the cave and he lay motionless, instantly unconscious or dead.

Ashe released the crystal arrow, as thick as a spear from all the frost, sending it straight for the heart of the shadow demon at point blank range. Magical ice met shadowy flame and the resulting explosion slammed Ashe straight back into the hard stone wall. The frostbow dropped from nerveless fingers as the battle-maiden collapsed.

The necromancer was putting all of his strength and will into crushing the mage who was trying to seize his rod. Jinx found herself unchained and able to move again. Without thinking, she launched herself into the air. Landing lightly on the wight's shoulders, she put Günther against the Hand of Istvaan and pulled the trigger.

The explosion cracked the evil relic, which immediately began leaking dark energy. Anzi Decadexos, by reflex, dropped his severed head and grabbed the hextech revolver, twisting and crushing it.

Günther was destroyed. Jinx stared in shock, until the iron grip of Anzi Decadexos grabbed her arm and hurled her to the hard stone floor of the cave. The fearless youth cried out in pain as her tailbone was shattered, and, her spirit broken by the sudden loss of her best 'friend', she collapsed in a heap, clutching the remains of the revolver to her breast.

The immense forces being exerted on the already damaged rod proved to be too great. The Hand of Istvaan shattered, releasing inconceivable amounts of dark energy. Much of this energy was absorbed by those closest to it, namely Ryze, Annie, and the body of Anzi Decadexos.

This energy would permanently alter the scholar mage and his niece, but the most immediate impact of the destruction of the Hand of Istvaan was that Anzi Decadexos's control over the shadow demon was weakened.

Annie sensed this, and shouted, "Give me back my Tibbers!"

Her will contested that of the necromancer for control of the shadow demon, and to his great surprise, Anzi Decadexos, a mage for over 50 years, felt himself losing to a child. The shadow demon, which had been attempting to crush Draven, removed its foot from the Noxian warrior's chest, turned around, and began to advance on the necromancer's headless body.

Decadexos' head attempted his last and most dangerous spell, Zone of Unlife, but Ryze seized the undead head and clamped the War Gauntlet over the necromancer's mouth, silencing it and preventing the successful completion of the spell.

The shadow demon grabbed the wight in a bear hug and began to crush it. The head bit Ryze's hand through the gauntlet. The scholar retaliated by beating the head against the ancient stone altar.

Anzi Decadexos was finished. His body was torn to pieces by the shadow demon, and his skull was crushed against the stone by the gauntlet. He had time for one final scream of frustration, and then his undead existance was ended, leaving nothing but ruin behind.

Annie ran to embrace the shadow demon. "Tibbers," she exclaimed fondly.

The demon dissolved into mist. In a few seconds, it had re-entered the stuffed bear that Annie always carried with her.

"Incredible," whispered Ryze. Annie rushed to his side, stuffed animal in one hand, and put her other hand in his.

"The bad spirit is gone now," she said.

Ryze looked around, and saw that none of their allies were still standing. What an epic battle…and it had almost been won by the necromancer. He felt exhausted and overwhelmed.

"Goddess have mercy," he said, hoping that all of their new friends were still alive.

[32] South Acorn, Middle of Nowhere—Epilogue

It was a warm, bright, and windy day, the kind that every traveller enjoys. In that backward armpit border march of Demacia called Gorfia, in the crossroad village of South Acorn, several travellers were leaving the aging and rustic Old Glory Inn. Those who were staying gathered to wish the travellers a safe journey.

Draven, Noxian warrior, executioner, and ex-gladiator was returning to Noxus. Amira blew him a kiss. During his recovery she had given him an hour of her time every night. For free. Draven waved back. Thanks to her, his memories of Demacian hospitality were very fine indeed. He was accompanied by Arif, the Demacian Ranger, who had never visited Noxus. Legally, anyway. A favour for a favour. Plus, the two fighters had become drinking buddies. Secretly, Draven was pleased to have a Demacian fan. Still, it would be nice to be back in Noxus again. Draven said goodbye to Demacia. "Draven's making an exit," he smiled.

Jinx, teenaged adventurer, free spirit, and wit was travelling to Zaun and Piltover, the homes of hextech. Her mourning period for Günther was over, and she had resolved to find a new friend…or two…or three! She waved to Annie, who was staying at the inn. "Bye-bye," she exclaimed.

Ashe, still travelling incognito as 'Lady Belle', was continuing on to Demacia, where she could finally complete her clandestine diplomatic mission. She was accompanied by Berit, of course, and also by Sir Taric, who continued to offer his services as a travel companion. He had visited Demacia before, knew his way around the city, and was looking forward to seeing it again…with her. Duty before pleasure, though… as Taric was fond of saying. He seemed to be growing on her; she wondered how long she would enjoy his company. As long as possible, of course.

While Ashe had been daydreaming, the entire male staff of the inn, as well as all of its regular male patrons, had lined up to see her off. It was almost a send-off fit for royalty. Ashe smiled. It was fitting: She was almost a princess, after all.

Ryze was not travelling. He was the new innkeeper of Old Glory. Everyone thought that the innkeeper ought to be a mage—it was tradition. Annie was happy at Old Glory also; now that the evil influence of Anzi Decadexos was gone, the old ghosts that were left were more than willing to play with her. Some of the spirits had vanished: Margrave William the Good and Chamberlain the Baron Chris the Clever had finally gone to their eternal rest, satisfied that their deaths had been avenged.

Ryze watched the other heroes depart. It was a bittersweet moment, for nobody knew when they would meet again, if ever. They had parted as friends, but even if they did meet again, at some time in the future, perhaps they would be foes.

There was one thing of which Ryze was convinced: _If we do meet again as foes, our fights will be legendary. And we will be legends_.

THE END

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